When Dawn Breaks
by Rydia Asuka
Summary: For fifteen hundred years, Merlin awaited the return of his king. For fifteen hundred years, nothing came of his patience. Then, one day, word of Uther and Ygraine Hunter's son, Arthur, reached his ears, and from afar, Merlin watched...and waited. And then calamity struck, and the world cried for salvation.
1. Another Day, Another Year

_This is my Nano, because who needs to wait for November to actually write the thing. Twelve chapters are written so far, and I hope y'all can enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. Feedback is fantastic!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Merlin. All associated settings and concepts are property of the British Broadcasting Corporation. No copyright infringement is intended; no profit is being made._

* * *

Merlin sighed to himself, scrolling down the pages of his thesis, though not really reading them. Class would be starting shortly, and he just wanted to look busy while he waited for his students. Why he was even here so early, he had no idea, but the time to use the classroom's computer in relative silence wasn't to be stomped on.

Another year, another tedious life. Jumping around from job to job, never staying long enough for people to question what was up with the man who never died... Oh, he aged, he let himself age, but when it got to be too much, he used magic to alter his appearance. It made his body stronger, though he still felt his age, deep in his bones.

Above all else, he was _tired_.

At least his waiting was over. After one thousand four hundred twenty-four years, his friend had returned. That was nearly twenty years ago, now, though they had barely spoken a word. Merlin had never found the chance to approach the reborn Arthur on the subject, so he watched and waited in the background, silently awaiting the calamity that had to be approaching.

The door opened, and Merlin glanced up. He concealed the flinch that came upon him reflexively with practiced grace, and greeted Morgana and Morgause Hunter with a polite nod. The sisters waved cheerfully, the former smiling brightly at him.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked politely. They weren't on this class, but he recognised them...because of course he did. How could he _not_?

"Yes, actually, we're here to see Arthur," Morgause supplied.

"Just hoping to catch him before class," Morgana added, shooting Merlin a winning smile. She was as beautiful as she had been in the sixth century. "I hope it's not a problem?"

"Not at all, so long as you're done before class starts."

"Of course," Morgana assured. "He's never late."

"Not unless his useless servant doesn't wake him on time..." he muttered under his breath.

"Did you say something, Merlin?"

"Oh, sorry. Just muttering about my thesis. I'm stuck on one section," he said, giving Morgana a winning smile of his own.

"You're writing it in...history, right?"

That was his guise this time, a graduate student, working on his PhD in history, and teaching a few undergrad classes on the side. "That's right. An analysis of past rulers, and how our world grew out of their policies—focussing here in the UK, of course."

"That's really interesting," Morgana said. "How's it coming?"

He let out a groan that was not at all feigned. "Apparently I have 'radical ideas'," he muttered, making air quotes.

"Really, how so—?" Morgana began, only to be interrupted by a new voice—one Merlin knew all too well, even a millennium-and-a-half later. The smile had not faded a lick, either.

"Morgana, Morgause, what are you doing here?" Ancient magics, why did he have to be so charismatic, still? Not that Merlin was really complaining.

"Arthur! We came to see you, actually," Morgana said, walking over to her cousin's shoulder.

"Really? I wouldn't have expected anything less. Surely you weren't here to see _Merlin_ of all people."

 _Arrogant prat..._ Merlin mused, a hint of affection, a hint of annoyance.

"Oh, don't be such an ass, Arthur. It's not his fault you're failing the class."

Morgana's words drew a snort out of Merlin, and a scoff out of Arthur. "I am not—!"

She cut him off with a laugh. "Gwen and I were going to get some lunch tomorrow. I was wondering if you wanted to join us."

"Anyone else coming?" Arthur asked, tossing his bag onto a table and dropping into the seat.

"I think she was inviting Lance."

Arthur shrugged, broad shoulders rippling under his black jacket in a way Merlin definitely was not watching. "Why not? There's nothing I enjoy more than watching those two make doe-eyes at one another."

Morgana snorted a very un-ladylike laugh, the likes of which the Morgana he recalled would never make. "Tell me about it."

"It is kind of cute, though," Morgause argued lightly.

"Only you, sis."

"You think so too," Morgause shot back, elbowing her sister gently.

The two shared a small smile, their bond as intact as ever. Their roles had altered, slightly, upon their rebirth, but their love for one another remained. Merlin was happy to see that neither had reason for such hate, any longer. He hoped it stayed that way.

"Perhaps—why don't you join us, Merlin? I never see you without far too many books. I bet a break would be good for you."

"Him? Don't be ridiculous, Morg. He doesn't know how to have fun."

 _I can still beat you at dice,_ he grumbled mentally.

"Don't be silly. I enjoy a number of thrilling hobbies," he said.

"Oh really? Like what?" Arthur challenged.

"Boot shining, sword sharpening, even the entrancing skill of chainmail polishing."

"You...are really weird."

Morgause looked like she shared Arthur's sentiment, but Morgana was smirking in amusement. "Haven't I seen you with a sketchbook a few times?"

"I draw sometimes," he admitted, "and I write a bit. But mucking out stables is much more fun."

"You are mentally unstable."

"And I grade you, so if you want to pass..." And how strange was it to be the one laying down the threats? That had always been Arthur's thing.

"And the dean is down the hall..." That was more like it. Merlin met the banter with a grin, but Arthur just sent him a flat look, the easy camaraderie that he remembered gone and buried with Arthur Pendragon.

"Ooookay, enough of that," Morgana muttered. "You want to come, Merlin? I promise some of us are easier to get along with."

Oh the irony.

"Sure, why not." It gave him a chance to get to know this Arthur better. Despite having watched him for nearly two decades, Merlin really did not know him at all. He had had no real reason to approach him, before, being too much older to attempt casual friendship, but now that they were together at the university...well, chance was presenting itself.

"Great. Tomorrow at one, meet us at the Starbucks on Princess Street."

"Great." It was more sarcastic coming from Arthur than Morgana. "Remind me again why you didn't just text me?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't invite him if I asked," she replied, winking and turning for the door, Morgause following suit. "Toodles! See you tomorrow, Merlin!"

Waving the two women off, Merlin turned to Arthur with a smug grin, folding his arms across his chest. "Looking forward to it!" he called after them, not looking away from Arthur.

Merlin ignored his scoff, heading to the front to address the rest of the class, which had slowly been trickling in. He ignored the feeling of Arthur's eyes boring into his back.

* * *

Arthur spent the class watching his instructor—not professor, Merlin Balinorson didn't even have a PhD yet—instead of actually taking notes. He did not miss the way the man watched him back, either. Not that that was any different from any other class.

Truthfully, Arthur had always found the way the other man _watched_ him constantly a touch...unnerving. He had never done anything to deserve the degree of scrutiny he got. At one time, he may have almost thought Merlin was checking him out, but the casual flirting with Morgana had laid rest to that, at least.

Today's exchange had only added to his confusion. He might sound crazy for saying it—so he would just not say it—but there were times he had sensed an almost playfulness from Merlin's words, like the professor had been somehow expecting _more_ from their arguments.

...the man probably just wanted to get to his hot cousin through him. It would hardly be a first. In this case, however, it seemed like maybe his cousin was interested back, so he should step back and leave them to it...except he really loathed the man.

As class wrapped up, he found himself impulsively grabbing his bag and stalking to the front of the room.

"Can we talk?"

"I certainly can, but sometimes I'm not sure about you—actually, I take that back. There's no doubt you can talk, it's whether or not you can make sense that's in question."

Arthur's brow furrowed, meeting the man's almost—expectant? hopeful?—look with one of confusion. "What are you prattling on about?"

Merlin cleared his throat, gaze drifting away, but not quite fast enough to hide the look of disappointment there. With one hand, he reached up to clutch at his chest. "Right then. What is it?" No saucy remark, at least.

"If anyone isn't making sense, it's you," he muttered, the comeback perhaps a touch late. "Whatever. I just want to tell you to keep your hands off my cousin."

Merlin blinked, then quirked an admittedly impressive eyebrow. "Wha—no, that's—"

"I don't want her getting hurt. Especially not by the likes of you."

The look of incredulity that was sent his way nearly made Arthur reconsider his approach. Nearly.

"I'm not going to be hurting her. Trust me."

"Good. See you don't. If you do, you better hope I get to you before Morgause does."

"...somehow, I'd be more afraid of Morgana herself," Merlin remarked, shrugging one bony shoulder. Somehow, the man managed to be a beanpole and short at the same time. Lanky, that was the word.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." For some reason, Merlin seemed to find that amusing. "Whatever, just...don't."

"Right, right. I'm not interested in her like that, anyway."

"...and why not?" Who wouldn't be? Morgana was gorgeous, and anyone like _Merlin_ should be thrilled to have her attention!

Seeming to realise he'd shoved his foot in his mouth, Merlin gaped at him a moment, then collected himself. "Well, uh...look. I promise not to hurt her, okay?" He held out a hand. "Promise."

With a suffering sigh, Arthur held out his own. "Fine."

The handshake was awkward, Merlin grasping his forearm for whatever reason, then back-peddling quickly, rubbing at his head as he did so. "Sorry. Just making sure you didn't have any knives. Don't like being stabbed, worse than getting hit, even."

This man was a ten on the crazy scale.

"...Right."

"Really, I think I've just been working on this thesis too much. Middle-age handshakes this week, reverting to using a chamber pot next..."

Arthur gave up. Retrieving his bag from where he had set it at his feet, he shouldered it and turned away.

Crazy.


	2. What Time Hath Wrought

Merlin didn't know had possessed him to tie a handkerchief around his neck, but he had done so that morning, before heading to the Starbucks to meet his...friends? Surely they had been, once upon a time, but that was long ago, in a land far, far away...

Honestly, sometimes it felt like a fairytale, his life of the past. The legends surrounding Arthur made the whole thing feel almost...surreal, and that was without even factoring in his own role in the legends. On other days, it was this reality that felt fake. A world without dragons, magic, creatures of magic...everyone he had ever known? How could _this_ be real?

He tugged at the improvised neckerchief. The point was, a whim, a flash of nostalgia, had possessed him, and he had taken this ridiculous step down memory lane. They were probably going to laugh at him, but it was too late now, as he was pulling into the parking lot and killing the engine on his vehicle. With sigh, he got out and wandered inside.

He glanced around, greeting this era's Gwen, who was as beautiful now as ever, by returning her enthusiastic wave.

"Merlin, right? I've seen you around campus, and Morgana said you'd be joining us," the young woman said, gesturing to the seat across from her. Next to her sat a young man who, despite clearly being of Latino origin, could be none other than his old friend Lancelot.

"Right," he agreed, taking the offered seat. "Morgana—" He looked around, not seeing her.

"She'll be here in a bit. I'm glad you could come. This is my boyfriend, Lance," Gwen said, gesturing to the man beside her.

Suspicions confirmed, he reached over to shake Lancelot's hand. "Merlin Balinorson."

"Lancelot Rodriguez, though everyone calls me Lance. Nice to meet you, Merlin."

"Likewise." He remembered the Lancelot of the past. This one...didn't seem so bad, either. He just hoped there would be no fallout over Gwen this time around. Once had been more than enough.

"So, Merlin, you're studying history, right?" Gwen asked.

"That's right. I'm the instructor of Arthur's class."

Gwen looked surprised at that, then a mischievous smile quirked at her lips. "Oh, is that so..."

Lance raised a brow of his own. "This guy?"

'This guy' what? He was tempted to ask, but then the door opened again, admitting Morgana's smiling self, and a grumpy looking Arthur.

"Gwen, Lance, hi! And Merlin, you made it!"

"Good to see you too, Morgana," Merlin returned, smiling. "Arthur." He nodded.

The blond scoffed, dropping into the chair next to Gwen. "Merlin." Then, warmer, "Lance. Gwen. How was class?"

"It was good. Hate having such long hours on a Friday, though," she groaned, despite the smile on her lips.

"What do you study?" Merlin asked, curious.

"Nursing," Gwen supplied easily. "And Lance here is in his first year of psychology."

Nursing was definitely up Gwen's alley, Merlin thought, but Lancelot? Psychology? That was an interesting combination.

"Lance and I have a lot of the same courses," Morgana said, dropping into the seat next to Merlin, across from her cousin.

"You study psych too?" Merlin asked. That was a decent fit for the Morgana of the past, too.

"Yes. It's been my passion since I was young." She was still pretty young. "My mother was a psychologist, and I guess it's just in my blood."

"My father always said she should have gone into the family business," Arthur said dryly.

"Just because our parents were siblings, that doesn't mean he got to pick mother's life."

Arthur shrugged. "I agree, but he's still bitter about it." The family business... Uther Hunter was an oil tycoon of the highest calibre, if Merlin recalled correctly—and he always did. A little magic saw to that. A step down from king, to be sure, but he still wielded a figurative sledge hammer with the law.

A sledge hammer called money.

"I know, Arthur," Morgana muttered, sighing. "But it doesn't really matter, anymore." Morgana and Morgause had been raised by Uther and Ygraine after their mother's death fourteen years before, and the three children had grown up as siblings. Merlin didn't know all this because he had been stalking the family, definitely not. Except exactly that.

"Yeah, let's drop it," Arthur agreed. "Anyone want food?"

The conversation paused for the moment, as they all got up to get their food and drinks. As they returned, food in hand, Merlin found himself asking, "So, Arthur, why history?"

The man sent him a look, then scoffed, shrugging. "Why not? It seemed interesting, and I'm mostly just in it for the football, anyway."

Ah yes, the famous team captain of the University of Manchester's football team. Somehow, the role fit the former prince.

"So just...any old major, so long as you can sport?" Merlin asked.

"Something like that," Arthur said, leaning forward with a smirk. "Figure I'll play a few years, then head into the family business."

"Making money?"

Arthur snorted. "Right. Something you wouldn't know. I mean, what is that scarf, a hundred years old? You look ridiculous."

The words stung more than they should have. Merlin hid it under an easy smile, though. "Thought I'd do something different."

"I think it's cute," Gwen said quickly. To her right, Lancelot bit back a chortle.

"Cute like a naked mole rat, maybe."

"You are ever the bringer of wonderful analogies, Arthur," Merlin shot back. Unconsciously, he reached up to press a hand to the pendant he wore. Everything was different, now, the missing playfulness in Arthur's tone made that blindingly obvious.

"Okay, so why are _you_ so interested in history?"

"I like it."

"You don't say." Arthur scoffed. Morgana sent him a glower and Arthur sighed. "Okay, okay. How is that going for you?"

"Yes, Merlin, how is your graduate thesis going?" Morgana chimed in, tone much more welcoming than Arthur's.

"It's...frustrating," he said, warming up now that he was faced with less hostility.

"You were writing it on ancient kings, weren't you?" Gwen asked, then threw in, "Morgana told me," at his confused look.

"That's right."

"So what's frustrating about it?" Lance asked. "I mean, it's gotta be good, knowing we don't live in such primitive societies." Merlin tried not to bristle at that.

"My advisors don't agree with all of my stances," he said. "Apparently I have _radical_ ideas, and they don't like that I included Arthur Pendragon, the ancient king of Camelot."

Arthur _snorted_ at that, a trickle of cappuccino actually trickling out of his nose. "Wait, you're including a _myth_ in your _thesis_?" He asked, incredulously. "Are you _stupid_?"

Those words cut like a knife, and Merlin found himself grasping at the pendant he wore under his shirt once more, the impression of the metal reassuring. "He wasn't a myth."

"Right, and the magic and dragons? Definitely actually happened, too."

"Actually, isn't it funny? King Arthur and the Knights of the Round table—Lancelot, Percival, Gwaine, even Guinevere, his bride," Gwen couldn't say that without a blush, "Morgana his adversary...and the court magician, Merlin."

"It is amusing," Morgana agreed.

"Man, imagine me as a knight," Lancelot said almost on top of her.

"Forget that, imagine Arthur as a _king_ ," Morgana shot at her cousin, smiling in amusement.

"Lancelot was said to be the bravest and most noble of the nights. I think that fits you, Lance," Gwen said, smiling at him. "Though I can't see myself marrying Arthur."

"I think we're all missing the most important part," Arthur said, his blue eyes cutting to Merlin in that familiar way that made him freeze up, "and that is Merlin as a court magician and royal advisor." He laughed, making his thoughts on _that_ point abundantly clear.

"Actually, Merlin was King Arthur's manservant," he said softly.

"...his...manservant?" Arthur's scepticism was obvious.

"Yep. Worst manservant ever, too, according to the king."

Arthur snorted. "Right, so all the magic was just a fairytale? Oh, wait, it was _all_ a fairytale. So, clearly Merlin was exactly what the fairytales made him. Because he was one. A fairytale. F. A. I. R. Y. T. A. L. E. Fairytale."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "It's good to know you _can_ actually spell."

"Says the one writing a history thesis on a mythological person," Arthur retorted. "But fine. How did Merlin go from manservant to court sorcerer. In the myths. That _never actually happened_.

"He used his position as Arthur's manservant to protect the king; his status as a warlock was only known to a few. The magic only came to light after...after Arthur's death, when Queen Guinevere took over as ruler, and used it to repeal the ban on magic in Camelot."

Arthur snorted. "And you know this how...?"

Morgana shushed him with a wave of the hand. "Let him continue."

It was obvious nothing he was saying was actually believed, but they were listening, and just...talking about it felt good. Better than good, even.

"At the end of...of Arthur's life," and that never got easier, "Kilgharrah, the dragon, tried to comfort Merlin by assuring that Arthur would be reborn, at a time when Albion's need was greatest." Words that had haunted him for over fourteen hundred years. Now, after so long...he could not even fear the impending calamity. Arthur was back, and that was more important. "Merlin promised to wait for him, no matter how long that took."

Gwen grinned. "I see where this is going. You're going to say that we're all those people, reborn, aren't you?" she said, a delighted grin on her face.

Merlin chuckled, that smile warming him. "Well, not all. I am that Merlin, still waiting for the Return of the King."

"Great, a _Lord of the Rings_ reference," Arthur muttered, snorting.

"And you, sire" he turned to Arthur, "are the king."

"...and now _The Lion King_."

"I think that line makes you Scar, Arthur," Gwen pointed out, elbowing him lightly.

"Wouldn't you have to marry Arthur, Gwen?" Morgana teased.

"Not a chance—!" Lancelot cut in, a look of concern on his face. Gwen just laughed, leaning over to peck his cheek.

"Okay, can we all just acknowledge that he sounds crazy?"

"Oh, lay off Arthur," Gwen chided, "he's just telling a fun story."

Merlin smiled sadly, not saying anything.

"Right. Well, then add to the story. How do you know it all?"

"I told you, I was there. Lived it all."

"Okay, do some magic for us."

Merlin was sorely tempted, but that would be going too far. The real Arthur hadn't taken it well, why should this one be any better? "I'll pass."

"Right. Any other proof, Merlin?" That stung, and he found himself clutching the medallion again.

"Arthur, lay off him," Morgana scolded, reaching over to pat Merlin's free hand, which was resting on the table.

That competitive tone, though. It had always made Merlin want to show Arthur up, the prat that he was, and this was no different. Before he could think this through, he grasped the leather thong around his neck and pulled it over his neck, setting it on the table.

"That's the sigil of Queen Ygraine, Arthur's mother. He gave it to me in confidence on yet another lonely night on the run," he forced a laugh. The memory of that night by the fire, though...that burned hot. "And this," he touched the ring also on the strap, "was his mother's ring. Gwen had it until she passed away, then she left it to me, asking me...to return it to Arthur someday."

"...wow, you are committed," Arthur muttered, "dunno if I should be disturbed or impressed,"

"It's cute," Gwen said, reaching out to touch the ring. "Are they actually real? They look old."

"Of course they aren't real, Gwen," Lancelot said softly. "Just props. It's only a myth."

"Merlin?"

He forced a smile. "What Lancelot said, Gwen, just having some fun."

"But you really are including Arthur in your thesis?" Morgana ventured.

"He influenced the U.K., Morgana. Real or not, I think he has his place. I mean, you can trace his influence just through the histories in the stories written about him. He moved from a warmongering monarch, to a kind, benevolent man who believed in equality. I mean, the Round Table? Idealistic."

"...that is an interesting point," Morgana said. "What do you think he was like—well, would have been like?"

"A hard man, willing to fight, but preferring peace. He listened to council and just tried his best to do everything he could for his people because he...loved them. He was a man worth following."

"You talk like you had a crush on the man," Arthur said smugly.

Merlin rolled his eyes, picking up the sigil. He clutched it a moment, it was his most valued possession, before putting it back on. This Arthur was most certainly not his. Though...maybe he did remind him a bit of the youthful prat he had first met in the courtyard of the palace.

That was not a compliment.

"Here they are, Gwaine!"

Looking over, Merlin found himself confronted with a very, very Irish Percival, the accent thick in his voice. It was...interesting, especially to see the former giant at such an average height—though, truthfully, Merlin was just short for this day and age.

Gwaine looked much the same as he remember. "Where've you been? We were looking everywhere." More chairs were pulled up and the two sat down. "Having fun ditchin' us?"

"Gwaine, right? And Percival," Merlin asked, brow quirked.

"Righto," Gwaine said, grinning. "You're...?"

"Merlin, Arthur's history prof."

"You aren't a prof!" Arthur shot back. The comment was greeted by a round of chuckles.

"Whatever," Gwaine said, "neither are we."

Merlin fond himself smiling. He had forgotten how much he appreciated Gwaine's easygoing nature.

"Great, we've collected more knights," Lancelot said cheerily, "what shall we do next, Your Majesty?"

Arthur scoffed. "Don't be—"

"We need a round table," Percival remarked dryly.

"No, we need drinks. Tomorrow night, let's go out," Gwaine remarked. "I'll invite Leon, Gwen, get your brother, Morgana, get your sister. You too, Merlin."

Merlin grinned. "Sounds good. When and where?"

"Nine. Arthur will pick you up," Gwaine volunteered.

"Wait, what?"

"Give him your address," Gwaine continued.

Merlin raised a brow, but after a moment shrugged, sliding his phone to the blond. "Number. I'll text it to you."

Arthur sighed, but entered it, sliding the phone back with a touch more force than necessary. "Fine."

"Great, this is better than homework," Percival said, chuckling lightly.

"Gwaine parties too much," Arthur grumbled, "this is why he keeps dropping out."

"Better to live while you're young!" the young Canadian cheered. "That's what I always say."

At least some things never changed.


	3. Lost in Time

The sound of someone laying on the horn at eight fifty-eight the next night was the only warning Merlin had that Arthur was on his way to pick him up, never mind outside his door. With a muttered curse, he grabbed his phone.

 _Brt!_

 _Hurry up. Don't have all night_.

 _If someone wasn't early..._

Less texting, more readying.

Arthur had a point. Tossing his phone down, he pulled on a red button down, fixing the collar and tucking his medallion underneath it. His phone buzzed again, but he ignored it, tugging on a belt before grabbing his coat, keys, and wallet. Stomping into his boots, he grabbed his phone right as it buzzed again. This time, he glanced at the messages as he locked the door:

 _Hurry up or I'm leaving._

Leaving then...

He ran outside just as a red Porsche was pulling away from the curb. "Hey! Hey, wait!" he hollered, yelling and racing after the car. For an instant, he thought Arthur would keep going, but then the brake lights lit up and the car jerked to a stop. He even managed to make the action of stopping a car passive aggressive. Great.

Pulling open the passenger door, he slid in. "Thanks for waiting."

Arthur grunted in response. "Get in the back."

"No, I don't think I will," he said, grabbing the belt and buckling up.

"Did I stutter? Get in the back."

...and that, that was unmistakably Arthur's _do as I say because I'm the king_ voice, and it was absolutely Merlin's weakness. He could push Arthur, would push Arthur, to his heart's content, but that tone meant do it and do it now. With a sigh, he made to get up.

"Fine. Prat," he muttered.

A glance at Arthur, as he grasped the door's handle, revealed surprise. "Wait, you're seriously...?"

Merlin froze. Had he misjudged? It had been a long, long time. Maybe his instincts regarding Arthur were off?

Or maybe this just was not his Arthur.

"Oh, don't be a drama queen, Merlin," Arthur muttered, rolling his eyes when Merlin did not move, one hand still frozen on the handle. "Sit _down_!"

He sat back.

"Seatbelt. So we can finally _go_ , Merlin?"

He buckled back up, and Arthur floored it, ripping away.

"I can't believe you were really going to get in the back."

"It's your damn car," he grumbled. "If you want me in the back, I'll sit in the bloody back."

He could her Arthur's eyes rolling as he replied, "Stop acting like kicked puppy. I was just messing with you."

"Right. You still have a terrible sense of humour."

"...still? Do I know you? Or are you just that weird?"

"...no, I suppose you don't know me," he muttered. Then, he raised his voice to be heard. "Just remarking that you didn't get any more pleasant since yesterday."

"That makes two of us, then."

Merlin rolled his eyes, turning to stare out the window. "Where are going?"

"To get Morgana and Morgause. Morgana volunteered to drive tonight."

"So I _can_ look forward to a drunk Arthur tonight."

A whack to the thigh was his only response, so Merlin propped his left arm up on the door and rested his chin on it.

"Oh, stop sulking."

"Who's sulking?" Merlin shot back, not looking up.

"The oaf in my car."

"I wasn't aware you were sulking."

"Shut up, Merlin."

Yes, Sire.

"I'd really rather not."

"Do you ever _not_ have a smartass comeback?"

"Let me think—"

"—don't hurt yourself—"

"—no, I really don't think so."

They lapsed into silence after that, not speaking again until they had picked up the women.

"Merlin, I'm so glad you could join us," Morgana said warmly. Once again, Merlin was reminded painfully of the young Morgana of his past, who was such a far cry from the cold witch he had slain near the shores of Lake Avalon.

This time...he would save her.

"Me too, Morgana. I think my thesis was going to my head. I needed a break."

"You're welcome to join us any time, Merlin. I know you're busy, but whenever you have can," Morgause said, a smile on her face that, in Merlin's opinion, looked downright unnatural. He had spent too long trying not to be killed by these people for anything else.

"Thank you, Morgause. I may take you up on that."

"Someone else can pick him up next time. He never shuts up," Arthur grumbled.

From the back, Morgana leaned forward and smacked her cousin on the back of the head. "Be nice."

"Yes, Arthur, be nice," Merlin shot back.

"Shut up."

 _Yes, Sire_ , once again sat on the tip of his tongue. He held it back, however. He wasn't a king, here...though he would always be Merlin's king.

"Whatever you say," he muttered sarcastically.

"Do you ever stop talking?"

"Not that I've noticed."

"We're here," Morgause said, effectively cutting their argument off.

The pub's sign read _The Setting Sun_ —and wasn't that ironic—and the parking lot looked full. Clearly, it was a popular haunt on the Saturday night. Once Arthur had parked, the blond tossed his keys to Morgana and led the way inside.

The inside was warm, bordering on hot, and dimly-lit. The press of bodies made it hard to manœuver, and the dancing, sweaty humans lent a scent to the air that mingled with the stench of alcohol in an entirely unpleasant fashion.

Following Arthur, who easily cleared a path for them, they were able to locate the table where Gwen, Gwaine, Lancelot, Percival, Leon, and Elyan were already waiting for them. Merlin slid into the booth next to Gwen, greeting her with a smile. Before he could protest, Arthur had shoved in next to him, effectively trapping him in. He did not miss the pointed look Arthur gave him when Morgana sighed.

Greeting were exchanged, and Merlin was introduced to the two newcomers, Gwen's brother Elyan, and Leon, who had grown up right here in Manchester. Merlin definitely hadn't been stalking all of them.

Except he had.

He took their introductions graciously, however, introducing himself in turn, and before long Gwaine was loudly offering to buy the first round. His offer was greeted with enthusiastic yells.

Standing, Merlin tried to squeeze out past Arthur. "I'll help you carry the drinks."

"Oh, sit down," Arthur muttered, shoving Merlin back into his seat. "Elyan, give that generous idiot a hand."

Merlin watched, curious, as Elyan, who was seated on the end, rose to follow Gwaine to the bar. So Arthur was still a bossy prick, then. Noted.

"So, Merlin, how come you've never joined us before?" Leon asked from his spot across the table. "From the amount Arthur complains about you—"

"One more word, Leon, and so help me..." Arthur grumbled.

Merlin raised a brow, elbowing the man next to him lightly. "A true fan of my teaching, are you?"

"You wish. The way you prattle on up there, you'd think you just like hearing yourself talk."

"You're one to talk! You don't shut up half the class. I've a mind to boot you out most days."

Arthur laughed. "Right. I'd like to see you try."

Merlin smirked. "You have no idea."

"No, I rather think I do."

"In your dreams, maybe, but on your tests..."

Leon choked on the drink Gwaine had just handed him.

"Damn, get a room you two," Gwaine muttered, setting a glass down in front of Arthur, then handing one to Merlin.

Arthur glowered at Gwaine in clear disgust. "You must be joking..."

Merlin huffed to cover up his own feelings on the matter, which were better left unaddressed. "I can do better."

"In your dreams, maybe," Arthur snapped, clearly offended.

"Using my own comeback against me. Mm, very clever."

"Like you'd know clever if it fell out of a tree and hit you on the head."

 _Do they ever shut up?_ Merlin heard Percival ask Lancelot. He was too engrossed in Arthur to register the latter's response as he grumbled, "Well, it sure wouldn't be you."

Arthur rewarded the comment by smacking him over the head. Clutching the spot in indignation, Merlin glowered. "That's one habit of yours I could do without..."

"Then don't be a prat."

"At least I'm not a cabbage head."

Arthur stared at him, confused. "Did you just...call me a cabbage head?"

"I did," he said, rubbing his head.

"O...kay. Well, nobody really needed proof of your stupidity, I guess, but there it is."

"You're an ass."

"You're an idiot."

"Aaaand you're both five," Gwen cut in. "Also, we've all had enough of your bickering like a married couple. Tell us how your game went today, Arthur."

Blessedly, that got his attention, leaving Merlin to relax and enjoy his drink. The banter with Arthur felt so familiar, so right, that it was hard not to fall into old patterns with him. He had to keep reminding himself, however, that this was _not_ , in fact, his Arthur. Oh, the soul was the same, but what good was that without the memories that made him the man Merlin had known? Without the experiences that had made him _Arthur_? They could be who they had been again, but it would take time. He needed patience.

He also needed to let go of the resentment and anger that kept whispering in his mind that this _was not what he had signed up for_. He had been told Arthur would return. He hadn't bid on it being like this.

"So Merlin," Arthur again. And the man accused _him_ of enjoying his own voice, "do you have any hobbies? Y'know, aside from being way too into fictional characters."

Annoyed, Merlin elbowed him. Arthur retaliated, and they kept it up until Morgana smacked Arthur again.

"I'll ask more politely, Merlin. What do you do for fun?"

Merlin shrugged. "I do have weird hobbies, Morgana," he admitted. "I've dabbled in a lot of things."

"Like what?"

Shoving aside his empty mug, Merlin picked up the new one. "I've studied botany, herbal remedies, dabbled in computer science, physiology, engineering..."

"You, uh, get around," Lancelot commented.

Merlin chuckled. "I get bored and move on. I'm not that great at any of it." That was a lie. He had dedicated decades to the study of each of the above, more to some. He had had a lot of time.

"Still, that's pretty cool," Morgana remarked. "Why history now?"

He smiled sadly. "Something came up that brought it to mind. So, I'm indulging myself."

"You...are weird," Arthur muttered, snatching Merlin's cup and taking a gulp.

"Ass," he retorted, snatching it back, "drink your own."

"Shorty like you doesn't need much alcohol. Share."

"Get your own," he muttered, hunching over the mug.

"They really can't go five minutes without fighting, can they?" Lancelot muttered, chuckling softly.

"Yeah. It'd be annoyin' if it wasn't hilarious," Percival agreed.

"So, just checkin', but this _is_ the same Merlin that Arthur obviously has the hots for, right?" Gwaine asked, shooting a wink Merlin's way.

Merlin, for his part, awkwardly cleared his throat. "I think you're mistaken."

"Mistaken doesn't even _begin_ to cover it," Arthur remarked coldly.

Morgana jabbed her cousin in the ribs. "Right."

Gwen leaned around Merlin to catch her friend's eye. "It's pretty obvious, huh Morg?"

"Oh, lay off," Arthur grumbled. "If you want to go out with Merlin just tell him that, Morgana."

"Who, me?" Morgana laughed at that, cheeks slightly flushed after two beers. "Arthur, I invited him for _you_."

Arthur's eyes widened, giving him a rather deer-in-the-headlights look. "You did _what_?"

"The way you never shut up about him, I thought it was time you got to talk. If I had known how annoying you two would be, though..." A few chuckles greeted her words.

"You're mistaken, Morgana," Arthur said stiffly. "There is no chance I could be interested in...that. I mean, look at him! He's too short, too skinny, too lanky, too stupid..."

Merlin had had enough. Slamming his mug down, he moved to stand. "Fine. If I'm too _annoying_ , then I'll just leave." Just don't make him see that disgust on that face, that looked so much like Arthur's, any longer. "Move."

"Merlin, he doesn't mean it," Morgana tried.

"He's just being an ass—" Gwen supplied at the same time.

"He's always an ass. And he does mean it. Please excuse me, Morgana."

She watched him for a moment, before sighing and sliding from the booth, dragging her cousin with her.

Freed, Merlin slid out and stalked to the bar, leaving behind the rest of his drink. Once there, he sat down and ordered something stronger. He was going to need it to get through this night.

A few minutes and two shots later, and he felt someone move to the stool beside him.

"Sorry he's such a wanker," Lancelot said, sighing softly. "He can be nice, but he can also be..."

"Don't mention it. And you can tell Gwen I'm fine."

Lancelot cleared his throat, telling Merlin he'd hit the nail on the head. "You don't have to hide over here. We can hit him if he goes off on you again."

Merlin snorted wryly. "Believe it or not, I'm probably better equipped to handle his jibes than anyone else," he said, not looking up, "but..."

"He's being a right arse. If it helps, Morgana, Gwen, Gwaine, Leon, _and_ Perce all had a crack at him after you left."

"You're decent folk," Merlin said after a moment, "but I can't handle him right now. Not drunk enough."

Eyeing the empty shot glasses, Lancelot chuckled. "You're well on your way, it seems."

"A few more, yet. Whatever _his majesty_ thinks, I can hold my liquor."

"Need a drinking buddy?"

"...that would be good, yeah." Lancelot had always been his favourite.

* * *

Arthur tried to avoid the annoyed glowers from his family, Gwen, Gwaine...pretty much everyone as he downed his booze. Good grief, it had only—mostly—been for fun. If Merlin hadn't suddenly decided to fly off the handle, they could still be doing so, too. Well, and if Morgana had kept her trap shut. Honestly, pushing her little crush on Merlin onto him? Who _did_ that? Why would be attracted to Merlin?

 _Merlin_ , with his too-long neck, oversized ears, short, lanky stature, gorgeous blue eyes, kicked puppy expressions, sandpaper attitude, quick wit... Nothing appealing at all.

Oh sure, he was cute enough, but that was it. Merlin was too old, anyway. He had to be like...thirty. Arthur was barely nineteen. He had no desire to...

He cut a glance to where Merlin was sitting, taking shots with Lance and grinning broadly. What a little prick. He scowled at the laughing pair, taking a swig of his drink as he did so. They...they should never have brought him!

"You could go talk to him," Morgana muttered, "instead of staring longingly after him."

"I am not staring longingly after him," he growled, turning to the table.

"You sure about that, Arthur?" Leon asked as he found his gaze once again drawn to the bar in response to a loud snort from Merlin. "You do seem somewhat distracted by him."

Slamming his mug down, Arthur scoffed. "Just...making sure he doesn't get into trouble. He's smashed."

"Lance has him," Gwaine pointed out.

"Better'n you as a babysitter, eh Gwaine?" Percival remarked, nudging his friend. Gwaine just laughed.

This is ridiculous," Morgause grumbled, standing and grabbing her drink. "I'll be over there," she nodded to a nearby table, "until you lot decide to talk about something interesting."

"And Arthur's crush on his prof isn't interesting?" Gwaine asked.

"He's not a prof, and I don't have a crush!" Arthur grumbled, loudly enough to attract the attention of several people nearby.

One woman sniggered. "Me thinks he doth protest too loudly," she remarked, to Arthur's chagrin and the amusement of her drinking companions. Stubbornly, he ignored her.

"Drinking game, I'll start!" Gwaine called. "Never have I ever...had the hots for my prof!"

Arthur groaned as the others laughed.

"Go on, Arthur," Morgana said, smirking at him with that too-knowing look he knew all too well, "drink up."

He was sorely tempted to throw his drink at her.

"Yes Arthur, drink up," a voice all but purred behind him. Turning, Arthur was greeted with the sight of his extraordinarily inebriated instructor leaning heavily on Lance's shoulder. "Or...something? What's happening now?"

Arthur turned away, groaning. "Nothing, _Mer_ lin. Go sit down before you fall down."

"Don't...call me that."

"...it is your name," he said, tone haughty.

"No, not _that_ , that..." The poor idiot looked confused. "Just don't...don't _say_ it. _Meeeeeeeeeeer_ lin. Merlin. S'my name. Merlin. Not. _Meeeeeer_ lin."

"Holy shit, I can smell the stench of your breath from here."

"Shoulda...shoulda smelt it like...a thousand years ago. Toothpaste...good stuff."

"Right. You are so drunk right now," Arthur said, sighing.

"Like...you care. Clotpole."

"...your insults never fail to astound me, Merlin. Truly. I am beyond impressed."

"Y-y'know, don't care...what you think of me. You're just...a prattish prince, anyway. But the insults, yeah? Rude prattish prince."

What was he even going on about? It was a good thing Merlin was beyond drunk, or else he might have had to ask about it. Prince? Was that really how Merlin saw him?

"Like. You don't hafta...hafta be _nice_ t'me—hell, you're _never_ nice—but do you gotta be so. bloody. rude? Guy's not lookin' for...anything...romantic, y'know? Friend, though...not so bad. But _you...!_ "

Arthur sighed. "You are beyond wasted. Morgana, take this poor fool home."

His cousin sighed, but eventually nodded. "Fine, but you're coming with me. I don't know if I trust him to get to the car on his own.

"Fine, let's just go." Anything to get rid of him. Merlin had caused him enough problems.

* * *

In the end, Arthur was forced to help the fool to his door. After retrieving Merlin's keys from his pockets, because the idiot was beyond helpless, he managed to unlock the door and shove Merlin inside. At the same time, a black ball of fur darted past his legs, the jangle of a tiny bell his only warning.

"Sh...stupid," Merlin grumbled. "Don't...you lost—don't lost my cat!"

Unceremoniously dropping Merlin into a chair by the dining table, Arthur turned and marched back outside.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered, pressing a finger to his forehead in annoyance.

In the end, it took him and Morgana _over an hour_ to locate and return the damn cat—and really he could only hope it was even the _right_ cat. Tossing it inside, he frowned at the sight of Merlin, sound asleep at the table, laying in a pile of his own drool. Arthur left him, locking the door and returning to the car, where Morgana was once again waiting.

"Next time you invite him out," he snapped, "he's your responsibility."

She only smiled at him.

* * *

 _Next update will be on Monday, a little Hallowe'en update to start off the action. (By little, I actually mean pretty long chapter.) After that...well, I don't really know when updates will come. That depends in large part on you, the readers._

 _I update faster when I get responses. Just sayin'._

Preview:

"Have you not been listening to the radio? There's something wrong with the town. I don't know what it is, but...I have a hunch. If I'm right, we're all in trouble."

"He's wonderful at explaining, isn't he Morgana?"

"Indeed. You're asking for a lot, Merlin..."

"No, I'm really not!" he snapped. "Maybe I just want to go camping! What harm is it to just do it? I'm not asking you to sacrifice your firstborn to the three seers of the Old Religion!" He would not lose them again, the very thought made him want to vomit. He needed them together to protect them.


	4. Albion's Need

The following Tuesday, class was even more frustrating than normal. Oh, normally Merlin enjoyed teaching, but not when he had to deal with Arthur's infuriating i _scrutiny_ /i.

He vaguely recalled the later parts of Saturday night, with Morgana and Arthur all but dragging him home. He also thought he recalled something about Selene getting out that night, but when he had woken up—on the kitchen floor, legs entangled with a toppled chair—she had been curled up, asleep on his arm. It really was the weirdest thing, though. He remembered it so clearly, in the haze of other memories.

Merlin did not even bother trying to tell himself that Arthur's gaze was anywhere but on him as he paced the front of the room, filling the whiteboard important names and dates. Maybe, just maybe, he had dressed accordingly. A dark, red button up, and tight blue jeans. Not normal teaching wear, but as an untenured instructor, he could get away with a few informalities.

...if the others were going to tease Arthur about a supposed crush on him, he figured he might as well have his fun, too. Oh, not that he expected anything to come of it—truthfully, he was not even sure if he'd i _want_ /i anything to come of it, because this was not the Arthur he had waited for—but it was entertaining, to feel those gorgeous blue eyes, that had once demanded such loyalty and subservience, check him out. Blatantly.

The dissonance between the Arthur of then, and the Arthur of now, however, was beyond disconcerting.

Class wrapped up with Merlin not entirely certain even he knew what he had talked about for ninety minutes. As the students filed out, he took his time packing up his bag, chasing Arthur with brief glances as he did so.

Once the room was empty, he let out a long sigh, shouldering his bag to leave—

"What the hell was all this?"

Merlin jumped, turning to face Arthur with wide eyes. "Wha—oh, ow! I, uh, thought you'd gone already," he said, rubbing the hip he had whacked off the desk.

Arthur raised a brow that would have made Gaius proud. "Graceful."

"Shut up. Prat," he muttered.

"Whatever, you haven't answered my question. What is all...this?" he gestured to Merlin.

"Thought I'd give you a show, since you're so disinterested."

"...you're a little git," Arthur grumbled.

Acting indifferent, Merlin whipped out his phone, glancing down at the screen. "Oh, Morgana wants me to join you guys for lunch. You're driving," he said, shoving past Arthur, then pausing to turn back. "Coming?"

Arthur let out a loud sigh behind him. "You are..."

Merlin tuned him out, stepping out into the hall. "I need to stop at my office, then we can go. Where you parked?"

"Out passed the med wing," Arthur said, falling in beside him.

"...why so far?"

"I dropped off Gwen. Just parked there because I found a good spot."

"Okay, let's go then."

His office, thankfully, wasn't too far away. Unlocking the door, he dropped off his books, grabbed his coat, and rejoined Arthur in the hall. They headed quickly towards the medical centre.

"You're welcome, by the way."

"For?" Merlin asked, eyes darting to Arthur.

"Getting you home safely, catching your damn cat—"

Merlin stopped dead. "Wait, what? That actually happened?"

"What actually happened?"

"Selene, did she really get out?"

"The hell is Selene?"

Merlin sent him a flat look. "My cat? You know, that thing you mentioned thirty seconds ago."

"...right. Well, yes. It took Morgana and I more than an hour to find that thing. You're i _welcome_ /i."

"Thank you," he said truthfully.

"...uh, right. You're welcome." This time, the caustic note was missing from Arthur's tone. "Good to see you can be civil."

Stopping, Merlin found himself looking around. They had taken a shortcut through the anatomy labs. It was not a place where students were typically permitted, but as a graduate student, Merlin got a few perks. Not that he normally came down here, because he didn't, but...

"The hell we stopping for?" Arthur grumbled.

"Something feels...off," he admitted. Merlin knew what it was: his magic was roiling. It had gone from zero to a hundred in the span of seconds, leaving him feeling a tad nauseated with the suddenness. He just wish he knew what had caused it, or even what 'it' was.

A crash sounded behind them, and Merlin jumped. He felt a hand grab his arm, and Merlin immediately put himself in front of Arthur. It was nothing. It had to be nothing.

"Merlin, what the i _hell_ /i? Is this some prank?"

"...I...don't know," he admitted, eyes narrowing as he stared down the hall. There were faint, shuffling noises, but he could not make out what was making them.

A person emerged from the lab down the hall, and Arthur pushed forward. "Hey, hey! What was tha—"

Merlin grabbed his arm. "Arthur, run!"

"Wha—Merlin?" Thankfully, he followed.

"Wraith," he muttered as they ran, "it's a wraith."

"A...what?"

"Wraith, come o—"

He jerked to a stop so suddenly Arthur crashed into him and sent them both to the floor. Rolling to his feet, Merlin wrenched Arthur up, yanking him back from the creature that had stumbled out of the room in front of them.

"Wh-what...the i _bloody_ _hell_ /i is that?"

It took a stiff step towards them, skin a ghastly white, and the stench of formaldehyde rolling off it in waves.

"A wraith, though thankfully a well preserved one," he muttered. "The old ones smell worse."

"Are you seriously joking at a time like this?"

"Might be," he replied, darting back to where a custodian's cart sat abandoned in the hallway. Grabbing a broom off it, he gestured for Arthur to follow him.

"Stay behind me. I can't stop it," No magic swords, this time, "but I can slow it."

"This is a prank, right? Who is that? Gwaine?"

With a garbled howl, it lunged at them. With deft precision, Merlin struck, all the lessons Arthur had given him paying off as he moved skilfully, taking it in the elbow, chin, then swiping its legs out from under it. Not quite Arthur's level, but his friend had drilled him reasonably well, as had the years following his death.

"Go, go!" he yelled, shoving Arthur passed him as the wraith struggled to rise.

Arthur went, thankfully, and Merlin followed, keeping hold of his broom as they raced through the halls towards the parking lot. They saw nothing else, and as they entered the lobby, even received a few strange looks.

"Get out of here!" Merlin yelled, though he did not slow. The calamity he had been preparing for. It was coming.

He had to protect Arthur.

They made it to the car, and with shaking hands, Arthur fumbled for his keys. Nothing like the cool, collected man Merlin had once followed so faithfully. They looked and sounded so much alike, sometimes it was too easy to forget they really weren't the same.

Moving to the driver's side, Merlin took the keys in steady hands. "I'll drive," he said quietly, giving Arthur's hands a reassuring squeeze. For a moment, it seemed that he would protest, then thought better and hopped the hood, climbing in as Merlin unlocked the car. Tossing his weapon in the back, Merlin followed him in.

"Want to explain what the i _hell is going on now_ /i?" Arthur finally yelled, as they peeled out of the parking lot.

Merlin kept his eyes on the road, his own heart racing. It had happened so i _suddenly_ /i. He had been following Arthur for years, and now, just days after they actually started talking, boom! Calamity.

When Albion's need is greatest...

The words had haunted him a long, long time, not just the implication but the phrasing. Greatest. That meant worse than ever before. Just what was happening?

"Merlin! For fuck's sake, you are i _creeping me out/i_!"

"Radio," he barked finally, "and call your cousin! We need to get in touch with everyone. I'm swinging by my place first."

"Yes, fine, okay, but first, explain?"

"Fifteen hundred years ago, a prophecy foretold that another great disaster would strike the land of Albion, or England, as we now call her. I think we may be smack dab in the middle of it."

"...you're kidding."

Merlin cut him a glance, and was forced to slam on the breaks as a stream of people raced by in terror. He glanced to the right...Spire General Hospital.

"Shit!" he barked, pulling a u-turn that made the tires squeal, the stench of burning rubber striking them both hard. "Radio!"

i _—all traffic to North Manchester General Hospital is being restricted, the hospital going into complete lockdown as a result of the epidemic. Other hospitals in the Manchester area are debating similar responses._

 _We have reports as far as London—/_ i

"Call Morgana!"

"Fine. Hit the bluetooth button on the wheel. You can explain this shit to her."

Merlin obliged, eyes glued to the road. Blessedly, the panic by the hospital had thinned out, and it was relatively easy to navigate back towards his house.

"Arthur? Hello? Where are you guys?"

"Morgana!" Merlin cut in, before Arthur could speak. "Listen, get Gwen and get in the car. Meet us at Alexandra Park."

"You'll never get back on Princess, Merlin..."

"We'll go in the long way, Arthur," he snapped. "Morgana, just get everyone you can, as many cars as you can, and the necessities. Some clothing, food, meds you have—I'm serious. Trust me on this."

"What's going on?" Her voice sounded muffled, but there was an edge of worry to it.

"I'll explain as soon as I can. Just...please. Trust me."

"Okay. How long will you guys be?"

"Hopefully no more than an hour or two."

"Where are you going?"

"My place, then maybe Arthur's—?"

"I can contact Gwaine. He can get anything Arthur wants."

Merlin nodded. "Good. Let's do this as fast as possible."

"...but seriously, Merlin, what is this about?"

"Have you not been listening to the radio? There's something wrong with the town. I don't know what it is, but...I have a hunch. If I'm right, we're all in trouble."

"He's wonderful at explaining, isn't he Morgana?"

"Indeed. You're asking for a lot, Merlin..."

"No, I'm really not!" he snapped. "Maybe I just want to go camping! What harm is it to just do it? I'm not asking you to sacrifice your firstborn to the three seers of the Old Religion!" He would not lose them again, the very thought made him want to vomit. He needed them together to protect them.

"...listen, Morgana, I...saw something too. He's right. Just do it."

"...okay, Merlin. Arthur, call Gwaine and tell him anything you want."

Satisfied, Merlin tuned them out and focussed on driving. He made it to his flat within the next few minutes, and hopped out of the car. Arthur followed.

"We left your car at the university."

"Yours is better anyway," he muttered, "and this way I can keep an eye on you. Come on."

They headed inside, and Merlin quickly made a beeline for his safe. Arthur followed him, only to freeze up, staring at the wall in the living room. "Merlin..."

He ignored Arthur for the moment, concentrating on the magical locking mechanism. After a moment, the safe clicked open, and Merlin reverently pulled out a heavy bundle, wrapped in the finest red cloth.

"Merlin."

Dumping everything out of his bag except his laptop, Merlin carefully tucked the bundle inside and zipped it up. Oh, he had waited for the day to break the spell on that safe...

"Merlin!"

He looked up, finally, following Arthur's gaze to the massive painting dominating the wall. Oh.

"What the hell is i _that_ /i?"

"A painting."

"No shit, Sherlock. What I meant is..." He gestured.

"It's a painting of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere," he replied tiredly.

"...you have...one damn weird fetish. Like, seriously, who did you pay off to paint that?"

Merlin sighed. Taking the painting from the wall was no easy feat, it weighed a tonne, but he managed and flipped it over to a long list of numbers and names.

"These are the artists who restored this piece over the years, and the dates they did it. As you can see, they date back to before 1000 AD. I'd have to have been stalking you a damn long time."

"But..."

"Look familiar? Yeah, I thought it was weird too."

"...they're a i _myth_ /i."

"Or maybe the concrete evidence has just been lost and hidden," he replied sharply. "This painting is authentic, though I know you won't believe me." He would take it, if he could.

"But he...she...us!"

"Believe in reincarnation? No? Well. Maybe it's time you started," Merlin replied shortly, setting the painting back up reverently. Then he cast a spell to protect it. Just in case. "Regardless, this piece was done on their wedding day, and it hung in the palace for a long time."

Arthur didn't respond, he was still staring blankly when Merlin turned back. Leaving him, Merlin hurried to his room, threw some necessities in a bag and grabbed his staff. Holding it, he admired the way the light caught the blue stone and reflected to the walls. He had not needed it in a very long time, and he was not certain it would really help now, but there was no chance he was going to leave it.

He shouldered the second bag and hurried back downstairs. Arthur had his phone out, staring at it and looking lost, and Merlin clapped his shoulder to get his attention. "Look, it's a dumb coincidence. It's been restored so many times it probably barely even looks like them anymore. Your eyes are showing you the familiar instead."

"...yeah, right. Obviously. You ready?"

"Just let me get Selene and some food," he said.

"Oh no. No cats in my car!"

He ignored Arthur, calling for the cat. After a moment, she emerged. Once he knew better what was going on, he would enchant her to watch for danger. For now, a simple spell to stay close would do. Putting his back to Arthur, he muttered the words, then straightened and grabbed his other bag.

Heading to the kitchen, he loaded his duffel with food, and stuffed the rest into the garbage bag. Once satisfied, he grabbed it all.

"Let's go."

Tossing the three bags into the trunk, he nodded to the car. "You want to drive, or want me to?"

Arthur hesitated at that, and it was all Merlin needed as he opened the door and let Selene jump in. "Right then, I'll drive. Get in."

Once they were both in, he handed the staff to Arthur, who examined it.

"What is this?"

"Better for braining wraiths than a broomstick."

"...right." Arthur made to throw it in the back, but Merlin grabbed his arm.

"That stays where I can reach it."

"...seriously?"

Merlin shot him a look, and Arthur relented. "Fine. Clearly you're an expert on the apocalypse. If that's actually what this is."

Oh, if only...

They drove in silence after that, Arthur texting frantically on his phone and Merlin driving. The radio chattered in the background, the reports getting progressively more frantic as they drove. The streets matched the reports.

Already, the signs of mass panic were brewing, and if Merlin had not been so studious at avoiding the major thoroughfares, there was no doubt they would be stuck in traffic for ages.

"Is that...?"

"Something's on fire," Merlin agreed, almost numbly. This chaos, it was so familiar. No matter how many times he saw it, though, it never really got easier.

"Look out!"

Arthur's shout did not come in time. With a sickening thunk, Merlin both felt and saw the car crash into a young man. Slamming to a stop, he looked frantically out the back windshield. A large pool of blood was already forming, and Merlin instinctively knew that that man would not be getting up again...at least, until he did just that, brokenly turning towards the car.

Merlin floored it.

"What the hell, Merlin! He was alive! He could die out there!"

"He's dead already!" he barked back, eyes on the road.

"But you saw him, he's—oh, shit. Shit. Shit shit shit. i _Wraiths_./i Like...undead? Merlin, are you fucking telling me—?"

He didn't respond, but his expression was hard. Protect Arthur. At all costs. That was all he could think about. He would i _not_ /i lose his king again, not even if he had to destroy another army to protect him.

"Merlin!"

"We're alive. Let's keep it that way." i _I waited too long to risk you now./_ i

Arthur fell quiet, perhaps silenced by the stoniness in Merlin's expression. Part of Merlin, a very large part, wanted nothing more than for Arthur to reach over and i _touch_ /i him. Ruffle his hair, clap his shoulder, rest a hand on the back of his neck—i _anything/i_. Just something familiar and reassuring, like Arthur had done so often, once upon a time. It had always worked in the past to calm him.

Now, though, it was his turn. He was not just the advisor and closet bodyguard any longer. Now, he was the warrior, the pillar of strength...and the leader as well. A leader who wanted nothing more than for the man next to him to start barking orders, not sit quietly in fear.

He gripped the steering wheel too tightly, jaw clenched. More than anything, he wanted Arthur to tell him it was all going to be okay, in that arrogant way of his. He could always believe those words, from Arthur.

"We're almost there." Merlin grunted, too lost in his thoughts to bother really replying. "What are we going to tell them?"

"Whatever you want."

"...the hell, Merlin? What's gotten into you?"

"I'm terrified," he growled. "And instead of making fun of me and telling me to stop being such a girl—"

"—that would be very sexist of me—"

"—you're sitting here, blatantly terrified too."

"Forgive me for not wanting to deal with i _zombies_ /i."

Merlin spit out a humourless laugh. "What—oh! I...guess it does sort of fit the trope." He hadn't even thought of that. He had just assumed wraiths, but...actually, who the hell would have the power to raise this many at once? Never mind the lack of preexisting curses on, he was sure, the vast majority of these corpses. Perhaps wraith had been fanciful thinking.

"You seriously never got that?"

"I've been focussed on keeping your ass alive."

"Yes, well...that...that's what this is, isn't it?"

"Maybe," he shrugged. There was still the magic, magic he could very much feel, to consider. Truthfully, though, he did not know for certain. It was not uncommon for the world's magics to surge like this, so it probably wasn't that. Probably.

"There's the park."

Indeed, there it was. Turning in, he pulled up next to the few other cars in the lot and killed the engine. Now it was time to try and explain this...and to get them to follow Arthur. Merlin was done leading.

~

Arthur had never in his life been so happy to see his friends and cousins as he was in this moment. He barely waited until Merlin had parked the car before jumping out and racing over to where Morgana stood with her sister, Gwen, Lance, Gwaine, and Leon.

"Arthur! Is Merlin there?" Morgana asked.

"Right here!" Merlin called, climbing from the car and approaching Arthur. "I'll take this."

Arthur let him pluck the staff he still clutched away without a fuss.

"What is it?" Gwaine asked, trying to take the staff from Merlin, who skilfully evaded.

"Not a toy," he replied.

"It looks like a wizard's staff," Gwaine teased.

"Enough. We have more important things to discuss," Merlin muttered.

"Yes, we do," Morgana agreed. "Mind telling us what, exactly, is going on?"

"The undead are rising," Arthur heard himself say. "I—we—saw it. Merlin..." Oh gosh, it was too horrifying to even say.

"What on earth are you saying, Arthur?" Leon asked, stepping forward with arms crossed.

Arthur felt a hand land on his shoulder, and glanced over to see Merlin standing at his side, a reassuring presence.

"I hit someone on the way here," Merlin admitted, "he got back up and lunged the car."

"And you didn't stop to help him?" Gwen demanded.

"I wasn't about to risk our lives," Merlin replied, a hardness to his tone that sounded entirely out of place.

"So you just...idrove _away_ /i?" Lance asked.

"When it's that or risk harm to Arthur, yes," Merlin said.

"Me? What do I have to do with this?"

"I protect my friends," Merlin said firmly.

"This is messed up," Morgana muttered, glancing to her sister.

"It is," Morgause agreed, "and we still don't know what's really going on."

"Merlin committed a hit and run, that's what," Gwaine said, cutting a glance to Arthur.

"No," Arthur found himself saying. They hadn't seen it, any of it. They were wrong to point fingers like that. "No, Merlin did the right thing. I saw it, too. Something is...it's wrong. In the med wing..."

"Arthur? What happened?" Morgana asked softly, her hand resting on his other arm.

"Something attacked us, in the uni. Merlin's the only reason I got out at all."

"What attacked you?" Lance asked, the others coming closer to listen to his explanation.

"I...don't really know. It was..."

"A cadaver, one of the ones for the med students," Merlin supplied, taking over with a surprisingly calm voice.

"No wa—"

"That's impo—"

"You're wro—"

It was impossible to tell who was speaking, and Arthur didn't even try. The hand on his shoulder squeezed reassuringly, and he glanced over to meet Merlin's gaze. "We're okay," Merlin said softly, "just like always."

"Just like always? What rubbish are you spouting?" Merlin offered him a weak smile, and after a moment, Arthur weakly returned it. "You do know what's going on, don't you?" There was a hint of desperation to his voice that, at any other time, Arthur would have been ashamed of.

"No, Arthur. I know no more than what I already said."

"Okay, then how about you tell us what you told him?" Gwaine pressed.

"Right, uh—"

Arthur glanced behind them at a sound in the trees. In the car, Arthur had used the word zombie, but that had been from the safety of his Porsche. Now, outside the car and weaponless, the word seemed far, far less ironic when a bloodstained woman stumbled towards them, one of her arms half severed and a dent in her head.

"Merlin!"

The man in question snapped to attention. Hefting his staff, Merlin shoved him towards the car, barking, "Get in! Get to your cars, everyone. We'll meet at Harvey Nichols!"

The group scattered, a few cries of terror erupting from them as they raced to the three vehicles. Arthur turned to the fourth, only stopping when he noticed Merlin was not following him.

"Merlin! What are you—?"

"Get the car started! I'll be right there!" The idiot barked, darting i _towards_ /i the...person? Woman?

Merlin's first strike hit her so hard she flew back into the woods, head half severed from her body. Arthur froze, mouth agape. "Merlin..."

"Go! Arthur! I'll cover you!" Another emerged, and Merlin pounced, jumping over a fallen tree and lunging for the attackers.

With a muttered curse, Arthur did as told. Luckily, the keys were still in the ignition. Jumping in the driver's seat, he turned them and went to hit the pedal.

"Wait!"

The door behind him was wrenched open, and Morgana tumbled in. "Morgause is taking my car. You have some explaining to do," she growled.

"Merlin first," he said, flooring the car over to where Merlin was dancing away from two of the things. Eyes closed, Arthur barrelled through them, then leaned over, throwing the passenger door open.

Merlin all but fell in, slamming the door shut before he was even fully seated.

"Drive, Arthur!"

Arthur drove.

Silence prevailed for a time, as they all apparently tried to work out what had happened. In the back, Morgana was petting Merlin's damn cat, and beside him, Merlin stared blindly out the window.

In the few hours since they had been in class, chaos had erupted. The streets were clogged, the sidewalks deserted, fires ran unchecked through the streets. More often than not, they were forced to turn around, taking long detours on their way to their destination.

Eventually, Morgana seemed to snap out of the stupor that had taken her. "You two have some explaining to do."

"Long ago," Merlin said stiffly, "a prophecy foretold that a great calamity would come upon this land. I believe this to be that calamity."

"You...believe in prophecies," Morgana said flatly.

"Are you honestly surprised, Morgana?" Arthur asked. "After all he's said, all he's done, is it really surprising that he believes in prophecies? I bet he'd call this," Arthur gestured out the windshield, "magic."

"Magic? No," Merlin scoffed. "There's a cause for this, though. Whatever this is."

"Do those i _prophecies_ /i say anything about how to solve this?" Morgana asked.

"There is one other thing, but that has already come to pass. Whether it will help or not remains to be seen..."

"And what is that?" Arthur asked. The whole thing was foolish. Merlin, poor Merlin, was strained with stress.

Merlin didn't reply, his gaze glued to the window. Eventually, Arthur sighed and gave up. Clearly, it was nothing.

"Aren't you bothered by this?" Morgana finally demanded, leaning forward between the two front seats.

"Of course I am!" Arthur snapped, already-tense hands tightening further on the wheel.

"Not you, him." She nodded to Merlin.

"...how could I not be?" Merlin replied, hesitating a moment, as though picking his words carefully.

"You don't seem it," Morgana challenged.

"She's right. You're remarkably composed," Arthur chimed in.

"I've seen worse," Merlin finally said, shrugging one bony shoulder.

"You've...seen i _worse_ /i?" Morgana demanded. "Like what?"

"Living humans killing living humans," Merlin replied, almost despondently. "Nothing worse than that."

"...are you a vet, or something?" Arthur asked, suddenly curious. This was the first he had ever heard of Merlin being involved in war.

"Something like that."

"Where the hell'd you i _serve_ /i?" Seriously, Merlin a veteran? The guy was full of surprises.

"Nothing. Nowhere. It was more of a...growing up thing."

"...growing up? i _Mer_ /ilin!"

"I'll keep us alive!" Merlin suddenly snapped unexpectedly, a hand reaching up to comb long fingers through his black locks. "Isn't that enough?"

"You're right, Merlin. We'll drop it," Morgana cut in, voice soothing. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Morgana."

"Yeah, right," Arthur muttered right back, rolling his eyes. "Because you seem so fine."

Merlin let out a sigh, his displeasure clear. "Just drop it. And stop saying my name like that."

"Like how, Merlin? i _Mer_ /ilin? i _Meeeeer_ /ilin," he teased.

"Fuck, yes. Stop it. I hate that!"

The displeasure in Merlin's tone was not feigned this time. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Arthur shrugged. "Right. Sorry then."

Merlin simply grunted in response.

"The ability of you two to act like utter buffoons during the apocalypse is either to be lauded or condemned. I'm not certain which, yet."

"You have to keep living," Merlin said, surprising them both. "If you don't, it'll swallow you whole."

"Well, isn't that a cheery sentiment."

"Arthur!" Morgana yelled from the back, prompting him to slam on the brakes. He was not entirely in time to stop from hitting the person that had stumbled out in front of him, bumping the man's legs.

The man wavered, and then slowly turned towards them. Before he had even made it all the way around, Merlin had grabbed his arm. "Go, Arthur! Forward!"

"Wha—?"

The other man was suddenly half in his lap, foot slamming down on the gas pedal in place of Arthur's own. To Arthur's intense horror, the car lurched forward, knocking the man down and peeling over him with a sickening i _thunk_ /i. The car nearly tipped with the force of it.

Arthur wanted to vomit. "What the hell was that?"

"You wanna live? Drive!"

"How can you—"

"Fuck, Arthur. Switch with me. I'll drive."

"He's right, Arthur," Morgana said, cutting in before Arthur could speak. "If you can't do it...let him."

"Morgana!" How could she side with...with i _that_ /i! That was a person!

"It's okay, Arthur. Stop and slide over."

Reluctantly, he did so, awkwardly manœuvering Merlin fully into his lap, then sliding into the passenger seat himself. In any other situation, the position might have been awkward, but the panic and the adrenaline blocked out anything but the most pragmatic of actions. Arthur barely even tried to conceal the sigh of relief he let out as the car took off, this time without him driving.

Merlin was ruthless, cutting over lawns, scraping the car off curbs and other vehicles, taking the sidewalk as often as not... The man's eyes stayed glued to the road, not missing a thing.

After the third person they mowed down, Arthur looked down, fists clenched in his lap. He could not watch this.

After a few minutes of just listening to Morgana shouting advice, and ifeeling/i the frantic driving, Arthur also felt a warm hand land reassuringly on his thigh.

"I'll keep you safe. It's what I do," Merlin muttered, the hand leaving a moment later to grasp the wheel again.

"...you're really weird, did you know that?" he asked, trying not to regret the loss too much.

"I may have heard that once or twice."

"Well, hear it again."

"Hard not to. You do so love the sound of your own voice..."

Arthur looked up at that, gaze moving immediately to Merlin, whose eyes were glued out the windshield. "Ass."

"Prat."

From the back, Morgana sighed. Loudly.

"Thank fuck, we're here," Merlin muttered.

Indeed they were. The large, brick-faced building loomed before them, the doors swinging almost haphazardly in the wind.

Reaching over, Merlin grabbed the staff at Arthur's feet, gesturing to the back seat as he did so. "Get the broom. We need any weapons we can get."

Reaching back, he did as asked, grabbing the broom Merlin had dropped back there what seemed like years before.

"If you can't use it, give it to Morgana," Merlin said, stepping out of the car and grabbing the keys.

"What are we even here for?" he asked.

"Supplies. Stockpile all the non-perishables you can, and get any practical clothing, especially good footwear," Merlin said, moving around back to the trunk. Popping it, he grabbed the knapsack out of it and threw it on.

"Why're you taking that?" Arthur asked, following him around to peer inside.

"It's too important to lose," he muttered, heading for the doors. "It's probably a mess inside. Stay on your guard."

Arthur followed, not bothering with a comeback, because frankly he was too sick and too scared to think of one. Morgana passed him as they headed for the entrance, snatching the broom from him as she went.

"Leave this to someone who can use it."

He was about to protest when the sound of another car pulling up drew his attention. Turning, he spotted Morgana's car, Morgause at the wheel, followed immediately by Lance and Gwen.

"Merlin! Morgana!" They stopped, and Merlin nodded.

"Tell them what I told you, and then let's go. Grab anything you can use as a weapon."

Frowning at the bossy tone, Arthur turned and did as asked—for his friends, of course, nothing more. They nodded, going through their things.

While they sought weapons, the final car pulled up, Leon and a grim-faced Gwaine popping out. Frankly, Arthur shared the sentiment.

"Good, everyone is here," Merlin said. "We're going inside. Scavenge anything you can, and then we'll go."

"Go where?" Leon asked.

"Outside the city. There are too many people here."

"Percy finally texted me! They're holed down in a pub." For some reason, Merlin looked to Arthur while Gwaine was speaking.

After a moment, Merlin looked away. "How far? Is it reasonable to send someone to get them?"

"Reasonable?" Gwen interjected. "Saving my brother isn't about reasonable!"

"Gwen's right," Lance said. Then, softer, "I'll go with you."

"Thanks, Lance," she said softly.

"Nobody said anything about abandoning them, Gwen," Merlin said soothingly. "But I still need to know where they are."

"It's a ways from here," Gwaine said, frowning at his phone. "I've been there a few times."

For some reason, Merlin looked to him, again, before continuing, "Then you go, take Lance and Gwen with you. Get them and come back here. We'll hole up until you make it back."

"Right, okay. Sounds good," Gwaine said.

"Thank you, Gwaine," Gwen added as they made the way back to her car.

"Thank me after we get your brother."

"Stay safe," Merlin muttered, before turning back to them. "That goes for all of you, too. Let's go, and be careful."

 _Happy Hallowe'en, all. Hope you enjoyed. I currently haven't decided when I'll be posting the next chapter. Suppose we shall see, hm?_

Preview:

Merlin's gaze was suddenly on him, fierce and piercing and so, _so_ icy. "I wouldn't joke about that. He died and he was the only one for me. You look like him, and sometimes I even feel like you two are similar, but you were different people, and even if you weren't, it wouldn't be _right_ —"

Arthur didn't give a damn about right or wrong. Impulsively, he grabbed Merlin, shutting him up the one way that was sure to work.

Merlin's lips were dry, cracked in several places and not particularly soft. He had morning breath, and stiffened at the contact...but despite that, it was still _good_. 


	5. The Store

Merlin learned a number of things while clearing out the department store.

First, Morgana was as amazing with a weapon as she had ever been in Camelot. When asked about it, she had brushed the knowledge off as _fencing practice_ and left it at that. He hadn't pushed, because frankly he didn't care. She had always been a better sword than Arthur, anyway, making her the best sword in the country. Some things never changed, at least, and Morgause was nearly as good.

Second, he learned that Arthur was a coward. Oh, he had had inklings of that fact all day, but facing it here, now, was entirely unsettling. Arthur was supposed to be the leader, but this Arthur? He followed. He followed and obeyed and looked to _Merlin_ for guidance. Where once Merlin had received barely-contained irritation when giving advice, here Arthur sought it, and was not the same thing as when Arthur had asked his opinion on decisions related to the governing of Camelot. This Arthur just wanted Merlin to...well, lead.

Third, he learned, in the secret, dark corner alone, that his magic did seem to effect this things, but that nothing he did kept them down for very long. The creatures did not act like the zombies of the media craze. They were not hungry, but they were angry, and they could kill. They also had a rudimentary sense of weapons, which made them very dangerous to unarmed civilians, and some crude knowledge of how to work basic technology.

Luckily, he was here to protect his friends.

They got the place cleared out, Merlin enchanting Selene and having the cat scurry through the building, using her enhanced senses to help them find any lingering monsters. Thankfully, the place had not been too packed with monsters, most of the living people escaping in time.

Under Merlin's watchful eye, they got the place boarded up, and Merlin set up a watch to keep an eye out for the rest of their friends, and any other people who might need help. Everyone else he set to rooting through the shelves, stockpiling food and useful clothing items. And a fair amount of booze, because they might need it in the days to come.

"So we're just...committing casual larceny?"

Merlin knew Arthur was talking largely to distract himself from everything they had seen and done, but the constant goading got old. He had enough on his plate, what with shouldering Arthur's burdens as well as his own.

"We are surviving," he said, rubbing tired eyes.

"What the hell, Merlin? We don't even know what the _fuck_ is going on, yet you're acting like we're the last people on earth."

Oh, if only Arthur knew. Last people on earth, or seven billion others, Merlin would do whatever it took to protect Arthur. After fourteen hundred years alone...he wouldn't even feel bad about it, either.

"I intend to keep you all alive. Right now, that's what matters."

"Right, well...thank you. You've done a lot for us."

Gratitude? Definitely not his Arthur, but still kind, and handsome, and loving. The gratitude was a nice touch, too. Not that Merlin sought credit, but it was nice to be appreciated.

"Hopefully it's enough," he said, turning back to loading cans into a duffel bag and stifling a yawn as he did so.

"Merlin."

"Don't forget those crackers on the bottom shelf. They should be good for a few months."

"Merlin."

"Need another bag? We're going to have to start loading this into the cars, soon. We'll also need to pick which cars we're taking. Four is a bit much."

"Merlin!"

"What?" he said, turning with a sigh.

"Can you stop...trying to save us all for thirty seconds and just _talk_ to me."

"Talk and pack," he replied. So much for even pretending like Arthur was his king.

A hand grabbed his arm, yanking Merlin around to face him. "Just talk for a second." Arthur paused, looking around. "You can do that, can't you?"

"Here I thought you'd be more concerned about whether I could perform both tasks at once."

"You've proven yourself quite competent, Merlin."

"Now you acknowledge it," he said, smirking wryly.

Arthur sighed. "I'm trying to thank you for all you've done, but if you would rather I leave..."

"No, no, sorry," he muttered. "Guess I'm just a little on-edge."

"I think we all are," Arthur replied. His hand was notably still clutching Merlin's sleeve. "But...it's good. I mean, we're okay, right?"

Okay might be pushing it, but it was his job to perk Arthur back up when his king faltered, so Merlin plastered on a grin and nodded. "Not getting us."

"Merlin..."

He looked away, forcibly turning back to his work. The store had been looted before their arrival, but there was still no lack of supplies. They had a lot of work to do, and he was not going to let himself be distracted, not even by Arthur.

Especially not by Arthur.

The hand that was still clutching him dragged him back. "Would you listen? I'm trying to tell you something here!"

Merlin forced out a huff of air. "Arthur, we don't have time for this."

"To hell with that! If we wait until we have time, we'll be dead." Damn, those eyes and that tone. Sometimes...sometimes Arthur was himself.

"...right, okay." Because there was no denying _that_.

"Look, I don't know what the hell happened to you to...do that to you," flatterer, truly, "but I'm glad you're with us, okay? I...I wouldn't have made it out of the uni. My cousins and friends might be dead. I know we're still in shit, but you've got us this far, so...thanks." So earnest. It sent a stab of warm affection through Merlin. There were times he really could see the Arthur he'd once known in this stubborn man. "Merlin?"

"Sorry, spaced out," he said, running a hand awkwardly through his hair and licking suddenly dry lips. He did not miss the way Arthur's eyes tracked his tongue. "Think I'm tired."

"We all are. C'mon, everyone else has had a nap. I'd say you deserve a turn."

"Uh...yeah, maybe." He would not be much help if he fell over exhausted, and the words made him acutely aware of the bone-deep weariness he had been steadfastly ignoring all night. "Actually, that sounds really good."

Arthur's grasp on his arm loosened, but did not leave entirely as he dragged Merlin to where some blankets had been thrown down amidst the pile of supplies. Wearily, he sank down. Just an hour...

Dimly aware of Arthur stretching out alongside him, Merlin was out in minutes, the high of the day burned away and leaving nothing but exhaustion.

It felt like ten minutes later when someone was shaking him awake. Jolting upright, he reached for his staff, taking it in a white-knuckled grip. "Wha—?"

"People outside. You told us to let you know if we saw anyone," Morgause said calmly. "Morgana and Leon have the door."

Nodding, Merlin heaved himself up using his staff. Glancing at Arthur, he briefly considered waking the man, but in the end left him. Arthur needed the rest more than he did.

The hike to the front was a short one, despite the bed being as far from it as they could put it. Using his staff as a walking stick, he stopped outside their makeshift barricade, constructed of old pallets and boards they'd found in storage. Waving one hand, he signalled the others to open a slit in the top so he could see out.

"Who's there?" he called out into the dim street.

"You the leader?" a voice called back.

Crazy as it was...Merlin supposed he was. "Sure, call me that. Now, answer my question."

"Just some starving and beaten blokes! Let us in, mate." Why did that voice sound familiar?

Merlin glanced at Morgause. "Get me a torch," he ordered. The streetlights had actually come on, but the front of the store was still eerily dark. Louder, he said, "How many of you are there?"

"Twelve."

A dozen? Fuck. That put his own group in possible jeopardy. As much as Merlin wanted to help other people...he could _not_ risk Arthur. No matter the cost. He'd made the mistake of not being hard enough once, and it had cost him his best friend. Never again.

"You still there? Please, mate...it's fuckin' creepy out here."

Merlin's brow furrowed. He knew that voice...

"Merlin? Here."

"Thanks, Morgause," he said, two words he'd never imagined stringing together. Flicking on the light, he shone it out onto the sidewalk.

"Come closer, where I can see you."

After some shuffling and indecipherable muttering, a single figure came forward. Dirty blond hair, lean but muscled, tall...

"Will?" he burst out before he could stop himself.

"...do I know you?"

Oh, goddess...it was him.

"I...think we met once before. Uh, you can come in, but I'm going to ask that you surrender your weapons for the time being."

Will turned back, conversing with two other people before approaching again. "Fine, we agree." The threat of the wraiths apparently outweighed the danger of strangers.

Merlin turned, nodding to Leon and Morgana. "Let them in, one at a time. Take their weapons."

"...sure, Merlin," Leon said after a moment. "You sure it's safe?"

"If it's not, I'll deal with it myself," he promised, moving to help open the barricade.

The people shuffled in one at a time, a sorry looking lot who looked half dead and hungry. They surrendered their weapons easily, and Merlin spent the next hour talking with each one and introducing himself.

Despite their exhaustion, he immediately sent two of them off to prepare something for everyone to eat, and three others to fetch bedding for them all—bedding he pointedly ordered set up away from his group's own. He also left his own guards on the door, because he was being generous, not stupid.

"Wait!" Will called out, drawing Merlin's attention. "We can set up the beds ov—"

Merlin stormed over, to see Will standing over a sleeping Arthur. Without a second thought, he brandished his staff, pointing it threateningly at his friend of long ago. "I said over there," he growled.

"That bloke looks cozy—"

"And he will be fine on his own. Get." A friendship of over a millennium ago meant nothing, here.

"Fine, fine. Merlin, was it? Did you say we met before? Where?"

"No idea," he lied. Lying was so easy. "Just recognised you, is all."

"...right," Will muttered, turning to rejoin his own group. Merlin did not really fancy keeping the people divided, but until he was sure...

"What weapons did we get?" he asked Morgana, dropping into a chair next to where she sat, a few feet from the entrance and inspecting everything.

"Not much. A few bats, a nice number of knives...and one gun I think someone swiped from a bobbie."

Merlin held out his hand for the gun, inspecting it. "Any idea how to use it?"

"Aim and fire."

"Okay, let's try again. Any skill with it?"

"Cannot say I have ever used one, but Leon has."

"Good enough. Hand out the knives to our group, and return the bats to the newcomers."

"Very well," she said, standing and collecting the weapons.

Merlin nodded his thanks, hefting it as he walked off to where the aforementioned man stood guard over the barricade.

"Here, Morgana says you know your way around these things," he said, handing it over.

"...yeah, right. Thanks. I used to do some hunting with my mum."

Merlin just nodded. Returning to the table Morgana had been using, he grabbed his vacated chair and dragged it over. "Good. We needed a few better weapons."

"You need to rest, Merlin. You were out less than an hour."

"I'm good for now. I'll feel more comfortable when Gwaine and the others get back. Any word, yet?"

Leon shook his head. "Not sure if that's because they haven't messaged me, or if the cell towers are down. I haven't heard from anyone, and we've been too busy to really poke around."

"Text them. I want word," he said, propping up one leg on a broken pallet.

"Right..." Leon was looking at him strangely, despite his agreement.

"What?" he asked after a long moment of scrutiny.

"What are you doing, Merlin? You don't have to run this by yourself." _In fact, I'd rather you backed off_ , his gaze seemed to add.

"I'm fine." Someone needed to step up for Arthur. As his oldest follower, Merlin figured that might as well be him.

"No, you aren't. You look dead on your feet. Go lay down. I'll wake you if I hear anything."

"Forget it. I already slept and there's too much—"

"Merlin—fine, do it for Arthur, if you won't for yourself. He's worried about you."

Merlin's brow furrowed. "...he said that?"

Leon nodded. "Wouldn't shut up. And now you left him over there by himself..."

Merlin rose. He supposed another hour couldn't hurt...

"Good. Get some rest."

"Thanks, Leon."

"Anytime."

Regardless of his plans, Merlin's feet carried him to the nest the newcomers were setting up, first. He did not really think they were planning harm to Arthur, but it was better safe than sorry. He took a moment to check on them, many of whom looked much better just for the rations he had given them.

Satisfied, he sought out Morgause next, asking her to keep an eye over himself and Arthur while they rested. The last thing they needed was attempted sabotage by some overambitious stranger.

Lastly, he called Selene to him. It was a simple matter to command the cat to keep an eye on the group and ensure that if anyone approached Arthur, she would wake him. Satisfied that he had done what he could, Merlin made to return to Arthur's side, only to be stopped by a voice.

"Merlin! Mate! Wait a sec!"

Turning to Will, he raised a brow, slowing but not stopping.

"Need something?"

"Just wanted to say thanks. We'd be dead out there."

"Happy to help. Sorry for the suspicion, but..."

"Nah, I get it. I'd do the same." Will's smile was painfully familiar.

"We have to help each other." So long as they were friends. "Or else what do we have?"

"Right? Thanks again, Mate." Will clapped his shoulder as they halted in front of the bed.

Merlin nodded, extracting himself to drop down beside a drowsy-looking, but decidedly awake, Arthur.

"Mer...lin? Whozzat?"

"We picked up a few stragglers," he said softly, fondly. "Get some more sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day," _Sire_ , "and we both need some rest."

"Right, right. You're sleeping? Good. Work too hard..."

Merlin smiled fondly at him. Those were words Arthur would never have said—outside of an enchantment—in the past.

"Right then," Will muttered. "I'll leave you to you beauty sleep. Later."

Merlin nodded once and laid down, his back to Arthur's. The shared warmth lulled him back to sleep eventually, though it was a sleep haunted by images of the past. Arthur lived now. That was what mattered.

 _Protect him._

* * *

Arthur awoke, in the light of predawn, to a warm weight pressed against his back. Groaning faintly, he twisted on the pile of blankets, just managing to catch a glimpse of rumbled, black hair out of the corner of one eye. Merlin's face was buried in the spot between his shoulder blades, and from what Arthur could tell, Merlin's lanky limbs were curled against his back.

With great care, he rolled over, prompting a groan from Merlin, who shifted faintly. A quick glance around confirmed that they were on their own. Smiling faintly, he reached over and cupped one of Merlin's cheek, his thumb brushing a few strands of hair out of the man's closed eyes.

Merlin groaned again, stretching as his eyes fluttered open. "Hm—Arthur?" Suddenly, Merlin was wide awake, sitting up and looking around nearly frantically. "What...what are you doing?"

"Waking you up. You snore like a pig."

Merlin stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. "So do you."

"I do not!" he retorted, offended. He did _not_ snore.

"You really do."

Why did he like this guy again? Annoyed, Arthur reached out prodded his side. "Do _not_."

Merlin was smirking now. "How would you know? You're asleep."

Despite himself, Arthur found himself matching the smirk. "Prove it."

"I'll record you on my phone tomorrow night."

"Are you asking to sleep with me again tomorrow?"

Merlin blinked in that cute, owlish way of his. "I'll just watch you."

"...that's not better."

"...no, I guess it's really not."

Arthur laughed, and after a moment, Merlin matched the look, a beautiful smile lighting up his face. Good grief, but Merlin was gorgeous, in a...cute sort of way. After watching Merlin save them repeatedly the day before, he had decided there was no shame in admitting his crush to himself.

"Hey, Merlin?" he asked on a whim. "You...remember what my friends were saying the other night?" Dear gosh, had that only been on Saturday night? It felt a year ago...

The smile slipped from Merlin's lips, giving them a downcast tilt. "...vaguely."

"They were right," he admitted. "If we're going to die, I...might as well admit that before we do." And he had no real doubt the feelings were returned. Despite their bickering, the man was strangely protective of him.

"...Arthur," Merlin said, looking down. "I'm sorry—"

"Fuck. Never mind. Forget I said anything." Had he really read it that wrong?

"It's not what you're thinking—well, maybe it is. I don't know. Just—I'm sorry. I can't."

"Wait, _can't_? Why the fuck not? It's the end of the fucking world, or some shit. If it's, you know, because I'm a guy, I can safely say that nobody is going to give a _fuck_ about who you're fucking right now."

"It's not that, Arthur." Merlin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's just...not fair to you. I'll admit that I am interested, but not for the reasons you deserve. You...look like someone, but you _aren't_ him and he's gone, died in my arms on the battlefield, and I just...it wouldn't be fair to either of you. So no. I'm sorry, but I _can't_ give you this."

Arthur's brow furrowed further the more Merlin spoke. It sounded like something out of a cheesy, romantic comedy. "Are you having me on?" he demanded, before he could think better of it.

Merlin's gaze was suddenly on him, fierce and piercing and so, _so_ icy. "I wouldn't joke about that. He died and he was the only one for me. You look like him, and sometimes I even feel like you two are similar, but you were different people, and even if you weren't, it wouldn't be _right_ —"

Arthur didn't give a damn about right or wrong. Impulsively, he grabbed Merlin, shutting him up the one way that was sure to work.

Merlin's lips were dry, cracked in several places and not particularly soft. He had morning breath, and stiffened at the contact...but despite that, it was still _good_.

For the three seconds it lasted before Merlin shoved him off with surprising strength.

They sat awkwardly in the pile of blankets that made up their pallet, eyeing one another warily. Before either could speak, Morgause raced over.

"We spotted Gwen's car down the road! They can't drive closer, though. A bunch of those things are gathered outside, and..." _They can't get to us. They could die_ , went unspoken.

Before Arthur could say a word, Merlin was gone, racing towards the door.

* * *

By the time Arthur made it to the barricaded entrance, Merlin was already there, barking orders to Morgana and Leon, both of whom were heavily armed, as well as a few of the new people. Arthur vaguely recalled being told about them the night before, but proper introductions would have to wait for now.

Merlin paused when he saw Arthur, keen eyes seeming to weigh him for a moment before he asked, "What do you think, Arthur?"

He shrugged. "This is your field, not mind." Was he imagining it, or did Merlin look disappointed? That was crazy, though. It was obvious Merlin was better suited to handling all of this than he was.

"Can I help?" he volunteered after a moment. For some reason, the idea of disappointing Merlin was enough to outweigh his fear.

"Stay here and cover the door. Don't do anything stupid." The words were accompanied with a glare that did not seem to have anything to do with Arthur's safety.

"I want to go with you," he challenged.

"You're too flighty. If you can't face these things without nearly wetting yourself, you'll only be a liability."

A liability? Nobody had _ever_ called him a liability before, and he was not about to take it now. Grabbing a knife off the table, he shoved passed Merlin to approach the barricade.

"Fuck you too, _Mer_ lin. I'll show you how much of a _liability_ I am!"

Merlin sighed from behind him. " _Fine_! Just...stay close to me."

Better. "Good. What's the plan?"

"Pretty straightforward," suddenly, Merlin was all business, "and with luck it will stay that way. We don't have a lot of people, but for a job like this, that's almost better. You, me, and Morgana are going to head out, using the parked vehicles as cover as best we can."

Arthur stepped up to the barricade, taking in the dimly-lit street. The road was clogged with cars, a few even shoved over. Their own vehicles blocked the only real path to the store, forcing Gwen to park some distance away. He could see her four-way flashers going, though no other movement. Laying low, then.

The cars, of course, were not the only problem by far. It seemed that their presence in the store had attracted a bloody crowd of the things overnight, as more than a dozen wandered about, poking at cars and staring at the door. Overall, being general nuisances.

"The cars also create a high ground we may be able to us," Merlin was still saying. "If we have to, plan B is to jump up and run across the roofs. Daring, but it should buy us some ground.

"Leon is going to stay back to cover us, and Morgause, Michael, Will, and Joanna will stay behind to cover the door. No use getting the others out only to lose our shelter."

Seemed simple enough. Arthur nodded. "Good enough. When do we go?"

"First we eat. We need all the strength we can get, and they seem safe for now. Then we arm up and go. Reconvene in thirty."

True to Merlin's words, he had everyone back and ready in less than forty minutes. Privately, Arthur was impressed, but beyond that, he was annoyed. Merlin was practically ignoring him, and that was pissing him off.

Well, he would have to prove himself out there. He knew that he was unnerved by the...things outside, but he could do better. He would not let his own fear rule him again.

It was one thing to say it, another to step outside. The street in front of the store was filled with sounds of pain and grunting, and...the stench. Arthur found himself clutching a hand to his nose. Oh, gosh...

A hand clapped his shoulder. "Stick close," Merlin said softly. "I'll cover you."

Arthur found himself clutching the knife he'd been given. "I can handle it," he muttered, pushing forward.

Merlin had insisted they all wrap their shoes in strips of cloth, and it helped now as they silently crept out into the street, skulking from one car to another. True to his word, Merlin stayed close to him, leading the way as they moved from shelter to shelter.

Nobody said a word, only the sounds of strained breathing and soft, rustling fabric breaking their silence. Arthur caught Morgana's eye, and she nodded firmly, hefting the broom handle she still carried. He felt reassured, knowing she was there.

At Merlin's signal, they all rose, preparing to skulk across a wide stretch to an abandoned minivan.

"Hey! Hey you're—help us!"

Everyone froze. Slowly, Arthur turned towards the sound of the noise, which turned out to be a boy, leaning out the window of the building behind them. Shuffling.

Arthur looked over, and his heart stopped. Two of the creatures shuffled around the pickup they were behind, one dragging itself on three limbs, one leg scrapping uselessly on the pavement and leaving a trail of peeled skin behind it. The other was upright on two legs, a broken piece of pipe in its hand.

Morgana reacted first, jumping forward and whacking the pole away with her broom. That was all Arthur saw before a third creature ran at him, mouth open, displaying a row of jagged, broken teeth.

He raised his knife in shaking hand, prepared to intercept—and then Merlin was there, attacking with a brutal efficiency that sent the creature reeling back.

"Move!" Merlin ordered the group. "Run! Get to Gwen's car, go!"

The group obeyed as a whole, though not without a few glances at the child hanging out the window. Merlin drove them forward with a brutal efficiency, not taking a backward glance himself as he signalled them to run.

Merlin brought up the rear as they sprinted forward, turning and knocking back three of the things with a spectacular swing of that weird staff he carried. Arthur could almost believe the stone in it was shining, the way the sunlight hit it... He shook his head. That was a useless, distracting thought.

With Merlin covering them, they put some distance between themselves and the monsters. Arthur found himself running just behind Morgana, eyes glued to Gwen's car, which was now close enough for him to see the others inside.

They were barely a hundred metres from the vehicle when the doors opened, his friends lunging out and sprinting for them.

A few monsters, ones Arthur had not seen before, darted out, hot on their heels. Morgana was faster, sprinting forward frantically, the distance between her and Gwaine closing rapidly.

She hit first, swinging out with a sickening thunk that dropped one of the monsters like a stone.

"Go!" he heard her yell, stopping to cover their friends.

In one smooth movement, Percival had spun, turning to stand beside Morgana with a yell.

"Shit." Despite his own reservations, Arthur found himself running forward too. He could not let them hold back all those creatures by themselves...! Behind him, he could hear Merlin yelling his name, but he did not stop. He'd prove to everyone, including himself, that he was capable of helping.

"Arthur, get back here!" Lance called as he passed, but Arthur did not stop until he was next to his cousin, knife hefted in shaking hands.

"What are you doing here, Arthur?" Morgana demanded, lunging forward to smack one monster back, her movements sure and smooth.

"Helping," he barked back, lunging forward. One of the creatures, a woman, was barrelling for him, and Arthur took a deep breath and engaged it.

He darted forward, stabbing with the knife. Rather than pull back, like a normal human would have, she lunged into him, taking his knife clean in her gut. Arthur could do nothing to stop the pathetic whimper that escaped him as he felt cold blood leak onto his hand.

"Look out!" Percival yelled, jumping in to wrench the woman back by her hair. Arthur fought back bile as her teeth clacked viciously mere centimetres from his face.

And then Merlin was there, flaying about with his staff with a voracious efficiency. Morgana fought with brutal effectiveness at his side, covering them as Percival dragged him back.

The retreated was chaotic, Lance shoving Gwen ahead of him, while Gwaine led the way. Will and his cronies cut the way through towards the store. Arthur let Percival drag him away, but not without a backwards glance at Merlin and Morgana, who were covering them splendidly.

A sharp cry from ahead made Arthur freeze up, gaze darting about frantically as he sought the source of the noise—there! Michael was on the ground, one of the creatures dragging him away, teeth buried in his shoulder. Will had grabbed onto his legs, and was trying to drag him back, while Joanna used a bat to wail on the creature that had him.

Releasing Arthur, Percival raced ahead, punching one of the creature's arms out, then slinging Michael over his shoulder. Percival let out a grunt as he did so, but did not slow as he raced the final metres to the door.

Arthur did not fight it was he let the group bustle him inside, though he did not leave the entryway until Merlin and Morgana had made it in. too. For a long moment, Merlin stood, staring at the building in the distance, where the child had called to them from. Eventually, he seemed to reach a decision and waved for the barricade to be replaced.

"Everyone okay?" Merlin asked, once everyone had caught their breaths.

"We need a hand here!" Will called.

Merlin was up immediately, racing over to check on the fallen Michael. Arthur left him to it, instead turning to his cousins and friends.

"I'm fine, Arthur," Morgana said, head high.

"Me too," Gwen assured. "It was harrowing, but we made it safely."

"Piece'a cake," Gwaine said, grinning. "Right, Perc—? Oh shit."

Gwaine's alarm drew Arthur's attention to the growing wet spot on Percival's sleeve. Gwen was at his side instantly. "Do you have any medical supplies?"

Arthur was up immediately, glad to be of use. "I'll get some. Sit tight, Perce."

"Shit, that looks like a bite..."

Gwaine's words haunted Arthur as he set about collecting a first aid kit. A bite. That was how the infection was always spread in the movies. Did this mean...? It did not bear thinking about. Collecting the kit, he returned to Gwen.

"How is he?"

"It's painful, but not too deep. I should be able to treat it without stitches."

"Gwen..." Arthur began, crouching down as Gwen got to work. "It's...he was bitten." He didn't want to think about it, not really, but it could not be ignored.

"Don't, Arthur," she said firmly. "Infection is the biggest risk to him. That's it."

"Right," he agreed slowly, but then nodded firmly. "Right." No sense doing something stupid because of a fairytale.

"Watch it—!"

Merlin's alarmed cry drew Arthur's full attention. Michael, the man who had been wounded, was lunging for Will. With Leon's help, Merlin managed to hold him back, and together they wrestled him to the door, which Morgana and Morgause opened, before shoving him out it.

Merlin stared outside for a long moment before motioning the others to close it.

Arthur swallowed, and went back to helping Gwen. Percival would be _fine_.

* * *

 _I swear this story gets plotty and plot twisty eventually. Really it does. Promise._

Preview:

"Damn," Arthur breathed between heady kisses, "you really have a thing for being ordered around, don't you?"

"...and if I do?" Merlin growled back. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Take advantage of it, obviously," he said, matching Merlin's tone.


	6. Lonely in Unity

Arthur pretended he did not hear the long, heated argument Merlin had with Will about Percival's fate. Granted, Percival was far less wounded than Michael had been—Arthur had not gotten a full survey of Michael's injuries, but Merlin had said he likely would not have survived, bite or no bite—but he was still _bitten_ , and though nobody was saying it, they were all _thinking_ it.

Zombies.

In the end, Merlin had gotten his way anyway, and Will's group was forced back to its corner while Leon and Gwaine kept fierce watch over Percival. At some point during the night, Percival began to slip in and out of consciousness with a crushing fever, which only worsened despite their best efforts. Gwen kept a keen eye on him throughout the night, and Merlin later ordered someone armed to stay nearby at all times.

...just in case.

It was late in the night when Arthur sought him out. Merlin sat alone, staring out into the darkened street through the reinforced glass of the front windows. Wordlessly, Arthur pushed his way onto the sill as well.

Neither said anything for a long while, but, surprisingly, it was Merlin who broke the quiet first. "I know you're trying, but you keep freezing up," he said quietly, "why?"

That was not what Arthur had expected, and it rather surprised him how well Merlin read him. He shrugged, figuring maybe the man deserved to be squared with after all he had done.

"When I was a kid, my family got robbed," he muttered. "My father killed the perp right in front of me. If he hadn't...well, I'm not sure I'd still be alive," he muttered. "I was just nine, but I remember how helpless I felt. I wanted to fight, but I couldn't, and—"

"Arthur..." Merlin breathed, glancing at him with a flicker of pity that Arthur absolutely abhorred.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur forced his nerves to calm. This was not what he had come here to talk about. "But that's enough about me. I _wanted_ to discuss how you ran off on me this morning."

"Nothing to talk about," Merlin muttered, glancing away once more. "I said all I have to say."

"Dammit, Merlin," he growled, "look at me when I'm talking to you!" The little git could at least give him that much respect. "I know you think I'm useless, but..."

Arthur trailed off, suddenly realising that he had gotten his wish, and Merlin was, in fact, looking at him, something indiscernible in his gaze.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Merlin finally muttered after a moment.

"Do what?"

"...order people around like that."

"Oh? And you don't spend most of your day barking at people? Double standard, Merlin."

Merlin scoffed. "Not the same thing."

"Really? Tell me how it's not."

Rolling his eyes, Merlin turned away. "It's not."

Arthur gazed at the side of his head for a moment, before growing curious. When he got demanding, it always seemed to get Merlin's attention, so maybe...

"Merlin, look at me," he said, in his best authoritative voice. True to prediction, Merlin obeyed, looking a mixture of intrigued and annoyed.

"I swear, Arth—"

"Did I tell you to speak? No? Good. You're going to listen." Merlin fell silent, and damn but the way those blue eyes were glued to Arthur's face was very, very pleasing. "Much better." He waited, and this time Merlin did not interrupt him. Arthur had no idea why Merlin was so prone to obeying him, but he was not going to complain. Maybe the guy just got off on playing sub?

"I know you may think we settled this earlier, but frankly I'm not a man who lets go of what he wants that easily."

"No shit—" A raised hand was all it took to silence him, this time.

"Look, I'm sorry if your last boyfriend kicked the bucket, I am, but using that as an excuse to avoid anyone else who makes a pass at you is just _bloody stupid_. So, you're not going to. Get your ass over here and kiss me." He used his most authoritative voice at the end, but still Merlin hesitated. Well, Arthur quietly vowed to let it go if Merlin refused—he knew what he wanted, but he was _not_ going to pressure anyone into a relationship with him.

He need not have worried, for after a few seconds of baited breath, he found himself with a lap full of Merlin, a hot mouth on his.

"Damn," Arthur breathed between heady kisses, "you really have a thing for being ordered around, don't you?"

"...and if I do?" Merlin growled back. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Take advantage of it, obviously," he said, matching Merlin's tone, " _Mer_ lin."

There was no missing the way Merlin shivered at that. "Take advantage...how, exactly?"

The words were a touch uncomfortable, and prompted Arthur to pull away. "I won't...force anything, if that's what you mean. I'm not like that." Even implying such things left a bad taste in his mouth.

To his surprise, Merlin laughed softly. "I know that. You're a selfish prat, but you're not _that_ bad."

"Oh, well, good to know I'm up to your standards, then."

"Dunno if I'd go that far..."

Arthur scoffed playfully. "I think you're mistaking me for yourself, Merlin."

"Rude, too."

"Get in here and kiss me."

Merlin obliged, responding brilliantly when Arthur ran a hand up his back, arching into the touch and gasping against Arthur's lips. For someone who had been so set on turning Arthur away, he certainly seemed starved for physical attention. Attention Arthur was all too happy to supply.

"Shall we take this somewhere more private?" he finally asked, moving to kiss along Merlin's jawline.

"I should...should be figuring out how to rescue that kid," Merlin muttered, tilting his head back so Arthur could kiss and nip at the sensitive skin.

"I wondered when that would come up," he admitted. If Merlin hadn't brought it up first, he would have himself. In the morning. After they had rested some...and enjoyed themselves.

"I argued with Will, Gwen, and Morgana a lot this afternoon," Merlin admitted. "They wanted to go out immediately. It took everything I had to convince them I needed time to plan," he muttered. "And we all needed time to rest."

Arthur slipped a hand under shirt, tracing his bare skin, feeling each of Merlin's vertebrae. His fingers passed over a tough knot that could only be an old scar. He paused there, stroking the tough skin with his thumb.

"Take a few minutes to yourself, Merlin," he muttered. "And get some real rest. I'll help you plan a rescue later." He wanted to see the child saved, too.

"There's...no time..."

He could feel Merlin melting under his touch. "If you really want me to stop, just say so," he said reluctantly. He would respect Merlin's wishes, if this was what he really wanted. "But I really don't think you do..."

Merlin took a deep breath. "I...let's...get out of the window."

Merlin got off his lap, and Arthur stood, leading the way back to the pallet they had shared the night before. Several others had been set up, all over the store, and most people currently slept. This one, it seemed, had been unofficially left for them.

Taking Merlin's wrist, Arthur moved to lay down, dragging Merlin with him.

* * *

Was it a mistake? Merlin found it hard to see it as such, as he lay cocooned in warm blankets and Arthur's arms, his bare back resting against Arthur's chest. Arthur ran a soft hand over his bare arm, his hands void of the calluses that had been omnipresent in the past.

...Arthur wasn't the same, but this was what he had. It was certainly better than a millennium and a half of loneliness.

"What's this?" Arthur's voice sounded rough and echoing in the dim silence of the store, but Merlin clearly felt the fingers on his left shoulder blade.

"A tattoo," he replied evasively.

"It's...a dragon? Yes, I think that must be it."

"Dragon, yeah. I got it a long time ago." A very long time ago, soon after Kilgharrah had passed, in fact. In a fit of grief, he had commission the tattoo of his old friend, sitting back on his haunches in the style of the Pendragon family crest. The details were exquisite, perfectly matching Kilgharrah. To keep the intense detail of the tattoo, he had had it touched up many times over the centuries.

"It's incredible." Hot breath ghosted over his skin, revealing how close Arthur's face was to him. "I'd like to see it in the light."

"Go get a torch, then," he goaded playfully. "Just...not the old kind. Too much fire."

Arthur scoffed, but rolled over to dig through the blankets. A few moments later, soft light shone on Merlin's back. Warm fingers came back, tracing the lines.

"This is...amazing."

"I had a talented artist."

"Very. Why a sitting dragon? Wouldn't a dragon in flight look cooler?"

"Isn't it rude to ask prying questions about a person's tattoos?"

"I think that detail gets waived when you just fucked the brains out of the person you're asking," Arthur whispered in his ear, hot and breathy.

Merlin shivered. "Fair enough. Let's just say the design has meaning."

"Of?"

"My past."

"You are truly to be lauded for your level of detail."

"Who the heck talks like that?"

"I do, apparently, and you're dodging the question."

Merlin grunted, rolling onto his back to gaze up at Arthur. Goddess...he would never have even _dreamt_ of doing this with the Arthur of the past. In Camelot, he would never have stood a chance with Arthur—his prince, his king—because even if by some miracle Arthur had been interested, Arthur had had obligations. He needed an heir, and he could not have dallied with _Merlin_ of all people, who was not only a servant, but male. What was unfortunately barely accepted now had been virtually a death sentence back then, and so Merlin had barely allowed himself to entertain the thought.

"That's because I've told you all I'm going to."

Arthur frowned down at him, the light from the torch casting shadows on his face. "You're a little git, you know that?"

"And you're a clotpole."

"...I don't think that's a word, Merlin."

"So you've said," he muttered, closing his eyes.

With a suffering sigh, Arthur settled down on his elbow. "You're lucky you're cute."

"You're lucky you've got a nice ass."

Arthur smirked down at him, planting a light kiss on Merlin's nose. "Yours isn't a total disappointment, either."

"Flatterer."

Arthur chuckled softly, settling down and wrapping an arm around Merlin's hips as he did so. Sensing the time to talk was over, Merlin let his eyes drift closed.

A few minutes later, just as he was feeling sleep claim him, Arthur's voice roused him once more. "Hey, Merlin, you still awake?"

"Hm?"

"...what do you think is really happening?"

Merlin stayed silent, really turning the question over in his mind. He had avoided really, truly thinking about the answer to that question before now, but Arthur's words forced it to the forefront of his mind.

"I think the media all agreed it'd be caused by a virus," he suggested evasively.

"But you don't believe that, do you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You were arguing with Will earlier, standing up for Percival. You had to have had a reason for that. Obviously you don't believe he's going to turn just because of the bite. You kept insisting Michael was...going to die no matter what, and that it wasn't caused by the bite."

"Sounds like you're the one who doesn't believe it."

"...because I'm paying attention to you."

Merlin sighed, eyes glued to the ceiling. "The truth is, a biological explanation seems unlikely, but what else could it be?"

Arthur got up again, gazing down into his eyes. "I think you have an idea."

Merlin fell silent for a long while, considering. He had gone a decade in Camelot, never telling Arthur the truth about his magic. When he finally had...Arthur had rejected him, at least at first. The memory still hurt. Badly. It made him reluctant for a repeat situation.

"There's a lot in the world we don't understand. I suspect the answer lies out there."

"...you almost sounded smart, there."

"Not particularly helpful, though."

"Are you ever helpful, Merlin?"

"You're a prat," he retorted, closing his eyes.

Arthur ignored him. "So, what do you think, then? If you've got these fancy ideas, you must have theories."

Did he ever just let things go?

"I don't know. Maybe it's magic." And if it was...

Arthur cuffed him lightly. "We're being serious, Merlin."

"I don't know, Arthur. Can we just sleep?"

"Fine, but this isn't the end of this discussion."

"Fine. Right. Good night."

"Night."

* * *

"Merlin! Merlin get over here!"

It was late in the night when the calls awoke him, but Merlin was up and stumbling out of bed before he had even full awakened.

"Merlin, wait!" Arthur yelled after him, a hand on his wrist.

"What, Ar—"

"Pants. You're _naked_."

"...right. Uh, thanks," he said, flushing slightly as he grabbed the pants he had shed a few hours before, then yanking them on. For good measure, he stomped into his boots as well.

"Merlin!"

Half clothed, he raced over this time, Arthur hot on his heels. "What is it?"

At this point, most of the people were gathered around the storefront, gazing out the windows, and Merlin had to shove his way through to the front, where Gwaine was gesturing frantically.

"What is i—" he froze, catching sight of what it was that had his friend so worked up.

"...shit," Arthur said, coming up behind him and resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Shit is right," someone else muttered.

Out on the street in front of the store, a skeleton wandered back and forth, its directions aimless as it continually tripped over curbs and bumped into cars. Merlin felt a well of panic rise in his throat. That was no wraith.

That wasn't _biology_.

Running back to the window, where he had left his staff, he snatched it up and raced back to the door.

"I'm going out," he said, then sent Arthur a pointed look, "alone."

"What? No."

"No way!"

"It's too dangerous!"

"I'm going too!"

"Enough!" Merlin yelled, cutting the protests off. "I'll be fine, and I can move better alone in this case. I need to know that you're all safe, first." He sent Arthur a sharp look.

"Forget it, _Mer_ lin. Either I'm going with you, or you aren't going."

Merlin sighed, stepping up to Arthur and pulling him aside. "Please try to understand, Arthur. I'll be safest out there alone, where I don't have to watch out for anyone. I'm quiet, fast, and trained for this sort of thing."

"You need someone to watch your back."

"No," he said softly, "I really don't think I do."

"...Merlin?" There was no mistaking the slight hurt there. The old Arthur would have just—no. No sense dwelling on the past. Just square your shoulders and look him in the eye.

"I'm going alone, and that's final."

Without another word, he turned and strode away, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on. He passed Arthur on the way back to the door, but did not even glance at him. He knew he would be helpless if Arthur demanded to come, and he could not afford that.

He needed his magic for this.

He brushed off a few more concerns, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge them as he was let outside. Staff in hand, he set out—alone.

The cold of autumn was the first thing to really hit him. Shivering faintly, he stood tall and strode forward with purpose, knowing that all eyes inside would be on him. Luckily, it seemed the creatures grew more sedentary at night, making the short trip to the skeleton relatively easy.

As he approached it, Merlin quickly grew confident that it was of minimal threat. It had no working organs to use for sensory perception, meaning that it had no idea where he was.

Settling in a crouch nearby, he watched, waited...and sent out a soft, almost delicate pulse of magic. That got its attention. With a clatter of bones and teeth, it turned directly towards him, racing forward with purpose. Much to Merlin's chagrin, every other creature in the affected area did the same.

...was this really caused by magic? Nothing else could hold the skeleton together like that, could it? That had to be it...didn't it? They certainly seemed drawn to magic.

He waited until the last moment to jump up, casting a spell to muffle sound as he ran across the pavement. As predicted, the spark of magic was enough to solidify their homing in on his previous position, while the muffled sound allowed him to relocate with relative ease.

It was almost comical, how they all tripped and stumbled over one another. That might be useful in the future.

Glancing up to get a better read on his new position, Merlin noted that he was not at all far from the building where the boy had called to them earlier. Well, now seemed as good a time as any to take care of that issue.

Crossing the street to the building, he glanced at the doors. No telling what was inside, but compliments of Arthur, he had some practice scaling buildings...

Mind made up, he cast a protective spell on his hands, tucked his staff into his belt, and launched himself up the brick face. It was as difficult as he remembered, the strain in his upper body leaving him sweating in no time. A touch of magic made it possible, though, and he eventually made it to the window the boy had called to them from. Bracing himself on the sill, he rapped sharply on the glass.

He waited a minute before a panicked face appeared, hefting a bat as a weapon.

"I'm human," he said soothingly, "and I'm here to help."

The woman lowered her weapon slowly. "You're...from earlier today," she said, voice muffled by the glass.

Merlin nodded, smiling disarmingly. "That's right. I came to help. Mind letting me in?"

"Uh, yeah. Just stay there."

A moment later, the window opened, and Merlin scampered through it. "Thanks," he said, rubbing his hands as he surveyed the room. It was messy, with most of the furniture propped in front of what Merlin could only assume was the way out, and stank of human waste. Two makeshift beds sat not far from the window, and the child watched from there with wide eyes.

"Just you two?" he asked.

She nodded. "We...got stuck in here, after...well..."

Merlin nodded. "Okay. I'm going to assume the rest of the building isn't secured?"

The woman brushed a strand of short, brown hair behind one ear. "I...no. I don't think so."

"Might be safest to go back out the window, then. Do you have any rope?"

"No, but we have the blankets..."

That only worked in movies...unless one had magic. He nodded. "Start tying, Miss...?"

"Katelyn. And this is my little brother, Derrick."

"Right, Katelyn, Derrick. It's nice to meet you. I'm Merlin. Now let's get that rope made, and get out of here. I bet you're both hungry."

Derrick nodded eagerly at that.

It didn't take long to make the rope, and a whispered enchantment had Merlin confident it would actually hold.

"You go down first, Katelyn. It's dark, so as long as you don't make any noise, they won't notice you. I'll carry Derrick down after."

Obviously terrified, she nodded anyway. "O-okay. Just...be fast?"

"I promise," he said, tying the rope to a heavy desk that, with yet another enchantment, would hold them easily. "Ready? I'm going to lower you," he said.

Shaking, she nodded. "R-ready."

Merlin nodded. "Remember, not a sound."

These things only went smoothly in stories, Merlin would later note, as he handed a crying Derrick off to Morgana. Katelyn had tried, she really had, but when the first creature had stumbled close, she had screamed. Despite dropping the last few feet to the cement, Merlin had not been in time to stop it tearing her throat out. So, he had done the only sensible thing: he had left her and sprinted for the store.

"That was stupid, Merlin!"

Taking a deep breath, he turned to Arthur, jaw tense. "I—"

"Together we could have saved them both!"

"Maybe, or maybe," _Maybe I would be saying goodbye to you again_ , "we'd all be dead. I did what I could, I saved one of them. It's going to have to be enough," he muttered, stalking away.

"Merlin, get back here!"

He ignored the cries, climbing back into bed. When he awoke again, late the next morning, it would be with Arthur's arm over his waist, so Merlin knew he was forgiven. For now, at least, because now he knew what he had to do, and he did not think anyone was going to like it.

* * *

 _I update faster when I get feedback...just sayin'. ;3_

Preview:

"What is that, really?" He nodded to Merlin's chest.

"It was given to me by my...best friend. The other is his wedding ring. I hung onto it after..."

Arthur sighed, falling back on his pillow. "Seriously? Does everyone you've ever met die? Should I be worried?" The strained smile his words were greeted with told Arthur he had gone too far. "Shit. Sorry. I didn't mean that."

"No...you're not far wrong."


	7. When Magic Fails

"We need to leave," Merlin said, late the following night.

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin," Arthur scoffed, frowning, "we're safe here." Honestly, what was he thinking?

"For how long?" Merlin bit back, frowning in that disapproving way of his. "Every day, more of those things gather," he gestured to the window, where, admittedly, it was true that the crowd was growing. "If we don't leave soon, we won't _get_ to leave."

"Why should we leave?" Will piped up, stepping forward with his arms crossed over his chest. "We have food, clothing, running water—"

"Running water for _now_ ," Merlin countered, "but I wouldn't count on that forever. Remember how quickly we lost the cell signal."

That drew a sombre silence, Arthur had to admit. After arriving, Gwaine had informed that they had all sent numerous text messages, trying to keep the group at the store up to date on where they were. Obviously, Arthur and the other had not received a one.

"We didn't even have signal long enough to properly contact your families," Merlin continued. "The power is gone, too. We can't afford to get stuck in here when the water goes, or when we run out of food."

Arthur remembered that well. Once they had finally gotten a chance to stop and take a breather, their minds, had, of course, turned to their families. However, despite frantic messages and calls, they had been unable to reach anyone. That worried Arthur. He trusted his father to be able to take care of himself _and_ Ygraine, but it was hard not to worry, in this world.

"So, you want to go find our families?" a hopeful-sounding Gwen pipped up.

"Unfortunately, no," Merlin replied. "As much as I would love to get you all reunited with your families, I think there's something more important to take care of first."

That was met with a few outraged yells, including demands to know what could be more important than _finding their families_. Merlin waited for the noise to die down before continuing, "I won't force you to follow me. You are all free people, and you can make your own choices."

"Maybe if you _told_ us what you were planning..." Morgause challenged, her eyes fierce.

Merlin laughed at that, but the sound was anything but amused. Honestly, self-deprecating was the term Arthur might have used. "I can't," he said softly.

"Okay...well, what about Perce?" Gwaine asked. His tone was less challenging than Morgause's, but there was a hint of worry in it.

"Gwaine's right," Lance added, "he's not up to travelling."

"This is stupid! How can any of you even consider going on a wild goose chase with this guy? Hasn't he already shown that he's crazy?"

Much to Arthur's surprise, Will's words actually drew a wince out of Merlin, who glanced down at his hands. Normally, insults rolled off his friend. Truly, when a few others of Will's crew voiced their agreement, Merlin met the insults with a fierce eye. Well, maybe he had just needed a moment to collect himself.

"Again, nobody is being forced to come with me! I only suggest that we _all_ move on before we die."

"Move where, then?" Will demanded.

Merlin lifted his phone up at this. "I have a satellite phone, and anyone is welcome to use it to try and hunt down their families. I have no idea if it will help, but you are all welcome to try. It has to be used from the roof, and needs to be charged in a car, but it is still working, I've already checked."

Merlin's words brought a round of excited murmurs from those present. It was a straw to grasp at, Arthur knew, but Merlin was doing a decent job of keeping the crowd from blowing up at him.

Gwen was the first one there, eagerly accepting the phone from Merlin. "Take a few others with you. See what you can find, Gwen," Merlin told her, not unkindly.

She nodded. "Thank you, Merlin."

It seemed that was the end of things for the time being, as most of those assembled eagerly followed Gwen up the ladder to the roof.

Arthur opted to stay with Merlin, as did Will, it seemed.

"You're good at manipulating a crowd, I'll give you that," the young man muttered, a furious look in his eye.

"I learned from the best," Merlin replied. "Though I'll never be as good as he was."

"You're fuckin' weird, you know that mate? I mean, what the hell is this secret errand you have to run that is _so important you can't bloody tell anyone_?"

"We can't kill them," Arthur was surprised when Merlin actually responded, "because damaging the brain doesn't work like the movies claim it should. Also, don't you find it funny that when the undead do fall, they all rise at once, not one at time? Never _mind_ the fact that this, whatever it is, affects _skeletons_. Without fleshy tissue, that pretty much rules out a virus, unless it's somehow worked out how to possess _solid bone_ —which if I know anything doesn't replicate cells fast enough for a virus to do anything—never mind _dead_ solid bone, which won't replicate at all..." By the end of his confusing tirade, Merlin was breathing a touch heavily, a spark of anger in his eyes.

"So...?"

"He's saying it's not biological, the cause of this...whatever," Arthur replied, reaching over to rest a hand on Merlin's thigh.

"Okay, so, what _is_ it, then?"

"That's what I mean to find out," Merlin replied, gaze steady, "and there are only two places I can think of that might have the answers."

"Okay...where?" Will pressed.

"The Lake of Avalon, or the Valley of Fallen Kings."

"...seriously, Merlin?" Arthur hissed, keeping his voice low. "Haven't you dropped the King Arthur nonsense, yet?"

Merlin's jaw tightened at that. "Regardless of the _King Arthur nonsense_ , both were real places. We just need to get to them."

"Real, maybe. Magical, no."

"Do you have a better idea, Arthur? Because I am waiting to hear it," Merlin snapped.

"Find our families, buckle down, live. _Not_ go on a suicide quest."

"And what about everyone else who's dying? This isn't going to stop unless someone actually _stops it_. I'll go alone if I have to—no," Merlin shook his head, "you need to come with me, Arthur. But _we_ can go alone. I won't force anyone."

"Oh, but you'll force me?"

"...no, maybe...I don't know. But I can't protect you if you're not with me." For some reason, Merlin's voice sounded almost sad, at the end.

Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Merlin, you don't make this easy..."

"You aren't seriously considering this?" Will demanded.

They both started, having apparently forgotten the other man. "This is a private discussion," Arthur cut in first. "If you would excuse us." Taking Merlin's arm, he tugged him to their pallet.

"Are you?" Merlin asked finally. "Considering it, I mean?"

"First off, I want you to know it's _bloody stupid_ , but apparently so am I because yes, I am considering it." Merlin let out what could only be described as a sigh of relief. "But I want a little more information, first."

Merlin fell silent for a long moment, before letting out a harsh sigh. "I want to try something, will you help me?"

"That depends on what it is you want to try."

"I want to see if fire will destroy these things."

"...we should get some help."

Merlin nodded. "Get Gwaine and Leon. We corner one, then we light it up. I'll get the fire."

Arthur nodded, rising to do as asked. It was easy to find his two friends, and Gwaine almost looked _excited_ when he had finished explaining what they intended to do.

"Which one you wanna burn?" Gwaine asked, as they stood at the window. Waiting for Merlin.

"You are too excited for this," Leon muttered. "That was still a person. I mean, who's to say they don't still have consciousness."

"I dunno, probably that _skeleton_ we saw last night," Gwaine countered.

"Perhaps skeletons have souls too," Arthur added, carefully keeping his face straight.

"Skeletons have—oh, you're joshin' me," Gwaine muttered, elbowing him. Arthur let himself smirk.

"Ready?"

Turning to Merlin, Arthur let himself look over his friend thoroughly. Merlin had changed into a pair of leather boots, probably stolen off the store's shelves, jogging pants, a fitted shirt, and...that silly neckerchief. It was a good thing he was cute.

Of more interest was the jug of motor oil and the oil lantern he had dug up somewhere. "Tools of the trade," Merlin said sheepishly, holding them up.

Without prompting, Arthur took the lantern while Gwaine snatched the oil, leaving Merlin's hands free for the staff he was so good with.

"So, what's the plan, boss?" Gwaine asked, smirking cheekily.

"See that bus?" Merlin said, nodding out the window. "I want you and Arthur to stay up there, and be ready to drop the oil and lantern. Leon will go with you to help out. I'll lure one close enough for you to light up."

"No way, that's too dangerous for just you, Merlin," Arthur protested. Honestly, the man acted like he was invincible.

"It's less dangerous than if I had to worry about you three. Let's go."

Not giving them room to protest, Merlin led the way outside, nodding to Morgana as they passed. Sighing, Arthur clenched his jaw and followed. He was getting tired of Merlin's hero-complex, and intended to make that annoyance known. Later. Arguing now would just get someone killed.

Merlin played at distracting the undead, though how Arthur really did not see, while they got into position. Honestly, it was interesting, he noted, as he watched them stumble all over one another while trying to track Merlin, who moved swiftly and silently, taking advantage of the dim light of predawn.

Eventually, Arthur noted that Merlin seemed to have picked his target, and was slowly but surely separating him from the others. After a few minutes of waiting with baited breath, it was close enough for Gwaine to lean out and dump the oil on it. The creature let out a screech, but it was quickly cut off as Arthur released the lantern.

The flames leapt forth, hot and hungry, engulfing the creature in seconds. The wail that escaped was painfully human, and Arthur found himself having to look away. He just could not stomach watching...that. The smell was bad enough.

Glancing up, he spotted Merlin watching from a short distance away, an utterly impassive look in his eyes. As he watched, the flames reflected in Merlin's eyes, giving them a golden tint. How he could stand that close, Arthur had no idea.

The stench of burning flesh filled the area, a trickle of greasy, black smoke rising into the air. The fire, it seemed, was enough to keep the others off, as they wandered nearby, but did not approach. Perhaps this was a workable solution, then.

Eventually, the creature collapsed, its tissue burned away and leaving nothing but a charred, blackened skeleton. It did not rise.

Dawn was just settling in fully as Merlin waved them down off the bus. "Let's go. Seems like that worked." For some reason, he did not seem happy about that.

Discarding the thought, Arthur climbed down, followed quickly by Leon and Gwaine.

"Well, that's good then," Gwaine was saying, "good to know we have _one_ way to defend ourselves."

Arthur nodded his agreement. "As much as I enjoy being totally helpless, it certainly doesn't hurt."

"Uh, Arthur, Gwaine..."

At Leon's interruption, Arthur stopped, looking back—at the skeleton that was slowly rising from its own ashes. At his side, Merlin started laughing.

"Bloody _hell_ , that seems pretty obvious, doesn't it?" he muttered, wiping tears of amusement from his eyes.

"Are you well?" Leon asked, brow furrowed. Arthur found himself sharing the sentiment.

Gwaine, however, barked a laugh. "Yeah, I guess it was."

"I fail to see the source of humour, here..." Arthur muttered. "Honestly, are you children?"

"Sorry, sorry," Merlin said, straightening. "You're right, of course. Life or death situation, absolutely no time for laughter."

"Oh come now, Merlin, I never said that. However, I fail to see how learning we have no means of killing these things is cause for _amusement_."

"I hate to interrupt this lover's quarrel," Gwaine cut in, "but I believe we should hold off on it until we're, you know, _back inside_ , lest they," he gestured to the creatures, "decide to invite us to dinner."

"An excellent point, Gwaine," Leon said, ushering them back towards the store.

It was true, Arthur noted as they sprinted. Whatever had been holding the things back no longer seemed to be in effect, because they were coming straight for them.

They made it back just in time, the barricade sliding back into its slots and locking them in.

"Well, that was educational," Arthur muttered, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. "I hope you got what you need, Merlin."

Merlin caught his eye, then, and with a subtle gesture motioned Arthur to follow him. Taking a deep breath, he nodded to Gwaine and Leon, then turned and trailed after Merlin.

"So?" he asked as they settled on their pallet once more, well away from prying ears. "Did you figure anything out? Can we drop this fool's errand?"

Merlin was silent for a long moment, then finally sighed. "I have more questions than ever. I have to go, Arthur."

"Why, Merlin? What good is chasing a _myth_ going to do?"

"Save us, I hope."

"Save us _how_?"

Merlin was once again silent for a long while. Finally, he shook his head. "On the shores of Lake Avalon, there's an old apothecary. I have no idea if the woman who owns it can heal this, it's probably crazy to think she could, but modern medicine isn't going anywhere fast, and there's often a lot of truth in folk tales. So, I wanted to check it out. Just in case."

"...that is your reason for this idiotic quest? You are dumber than I thought."

Merlin looked up, meeting his gaze. "You don't have to come, you know I can't force you...but I can ask you to. Please, Arthur."

Good grief, but Merlin had the kicked puppy look patented. Clenching his jaw, Arthur found himself trying to look away, but completely incapable of doing so. "Fine. If I die, why not make it on a crazy quest to save the world. I—"

Merlin's lips on his cut him off, and Arthur could not say he minded.

Some time later, Arthur lay in silence, watching Merlin redress. That weird amulet he had shown them what felt like years before still hung around his neck, and Arthur found himself watching it until Merlin pulled on a new shirt.

"What is that, really?" He nodded to Merlin's chest.

"It was given to me by my...best friend. The other is his wedding ring. I hung onto it after..."

Arthur sighed, falling back on his pillow. "Seriously? Does everyone you've ever met die? Should I be worried?" The strained smile his words were greeted with told Arthur he had gone too far. "Shit. Sorry. I didn't mean that."

"No...you're not far wrong."

Arthur lay quiet, waiting for more, but nothing came. Merlin simply set about fixing his hair, then stood. "I'm going to go start loading a car. I can't stand just sitting around."

"Fuck, Merlin, I can help. You don't have to do it all yourself."

Merlin met his gaze with a grim smile. "You better stay here. Wouldn't want you to die, too."

The silence that followed Merlin's departure was deafening.

* * *

Arthur was just beginning to shake himself out of the stupor Merlin's words had left him in when Lance and Gwen appeared.

"Arthur? What are you doing here by yourself?" Gwen asked, moving to perch on the edge of the bed.

"Shirtless, I might add," Lancelot said, brow raised as he leaned against the shelving.

Arthur rolled his eyes at the teasing. "We're grown men, Lance."

"...wait, really? You and Merlin? Dang, and here I thought you'd deny it forever."

Gwen was smiling brightly. "I'm happy for you two.

"Right. I mean, he's cute enough, but kind of stupid."

Lance snorted. "You call him stupid, but you're sitting here while he does all the packing to leave by himself."

"He never lets me help."

"Oh, and you have to be given permission, do you?" Gwen scolded.

"It's not that simple, Gwen. He can be quite the prat when he wants to."

"It is true then? You're going with him?" Lance asked.

Arthur hesitated, but nodded. "He needs someone to look after him."

Gwen and Lance exchanged a long look before she turned to him. "I hope you have room for two more."

"Make that three!" Gwaine called, stepping up with a smirk.

"Five," Leon said, as he and Elyan walked over.

"I should hope you don't mean to leave us behind, dear cousin," Morgana said as she and Morgause strode up."

"This is turning into a cheesy _Lord of the Rings_ moment. _Nine companions. Very well, you shall be the Fellowship of the Ring,_ Gwaine joked, mimicking Elrond's voice in a terribly off-key fashion.

"Hey, that fits," Elyan said, grinning. "Nine."

"...what about Perce?" Gwen asked softly. "We can't all leave him..."

"No, we bring him," Gwaine said firmly. "He's best off with us, anyway. And ten is a better number, whatever Tolkien says."

"It sounds like this might be a rough trip," Arthur said slowly. "It might be best if we didn't drag him along."

"...do you think he's going to turn, Arthur?" Morgana asked, unexpectedly.

Arthur found himself shrugging. "He's still feverish, isn't he? But at least he's alive. Merlin really doesn't seem to think these are...zombies, and frankly I believe him. I think he'll be fine." The more he spoke, the more his voice firmed with conviction. Percival would be fine.

"It's good to hear someone say it," Gwen said, smiling. "Now why don't we go give Merlin a hand? We can work out the rest later."

The suggestion was greeted with enthusiasm. It was better than doing nothing.

* * *

Percival was dead by morning. In the end, his fever had proven too much, and according to Morgause the infection from the bite had infected his blood, travelling to the heart.

Arthur watched grimly as Merlin directed them to remove the body. Unable to even burn it, they did the only thing they could do in putting it outside.

At least he hadn't Risen. Yet.

It was a sombre group that met by the doors before dawn the following morning. With Percival gone, nobody felt the need to stay behind, and they all filled into the two cars and one van they had loaded with food and other supplies the night before.

"I swear, I am never siphoning gas again. Ever." Gwaine muttered as he followed Arthur and Merlin to Arthur's car.

Arthur knew he was just talking to fill the void, but he could not repress an annoyed glare anyway. Perce was dead and that was all he could think about? It was wrong.

"Try to stay close," Merlin was instructing Morgana and Lance, who would be driving the other two cars. "But if you have to split up, you have the maps I gave you. Meet us at the closest marker."

"Right," Lance said. "Stay safe, everyone." Waving for Gwen and Elyan, they hurried off to the other car.

"Take care of my cousin, Merlin. I would hate him to get hurt." With that, Morgana turned and strode to the supply van, her sister and Leon close on her heels.

"I think that's her way of saying she loves you, Arthur," Gwaine teased, drawing a sigh out of Arthur.

"Do we have to bring him—?"

"Wait!" Will yelled, stopping them all in their tracks. "You're seriously just fucking off like that? Without even telling us? What the hell?"

Merlin turned. "I told you I wanted to leave. What you do is up to you, but we left plenty of supplies. I wish you luck."

"You're fucking serious? You are! Fine, at least take me with you."

Merlin strode back at that. Arthur hung back, too, his attention fully on the exchange.

"No, Will. Your job is to watch over those people in there. Our paths have always been meant to part, and this is where they do."

"...the hell? Listen, I have no idea what you're on about, but if you're actually doing something—"

"Yes, we are. And so are you. Go take care of those people. You're good at that."

Without another word, Merlin turned away, taking out Arthur's keys and unlocking the Porsche. Letting his cat into the back, and setting the backpack he watched so closely on the seat, Merlin climbed into the driver's seat.

Leon let himself into the back, while Arthur took shotgun. There had been little argument over who was going to drive, and as they pulled away, Arthur felt some relief. Merlin was just...better at this than he was.

"Is it just me, or does this all seem too...easy?" Leon asked. "I swear it feels like those things have just lost interest in us. Like, they were smart at first, using weapons and going after weaker people. Now they trip over each other and can't seem to figure out which way is up half the time."

Arthur had to agree. Loading the cars, getting to the cars, their stunt yesterday...it all seemed too _simple_. Were they missing something?

"We're probably just better at reading them," Merlin suggested, creeping out through an opening in the cars they had made the day before. "Practice does that."

Arthur somehow did not think that was it, but he had no better suggestion, so he let it drop, asking instead, "Music, anyone?"

"Sure, and make sure you charge my phone," Merlin said. "Hopefully we'll hear from the government soon."

Arthur nodded, plugging in the phone, then digging into his CD case. Once he had the music playing, Arthur turned his attention to taking a nap. None of them had had much sleep lately...and frankly, he did not want to watch the destruction pass by. It did not take him long to fall asleep.

* * *

 _We're finally trickling into the good stuff..._

 _Thanks for the support so far, everyone. :)_

Preview:

"The army bombed London," Arthur said grimly.


	8. When History Repeats

Arthur stared blankly out the window at the passing countryside. They had left the city behind hours ago, and now Gwaine was taking a turn driving while Merlin napped in the back with his cat. The man deserved the rest, and had clearly needed it.

Behind them drove Morgause in the van, with Gwen bringing up the rear. It had been a long day, with all of them taking a turn at the wheel while the others slept. Other than brief stops to relieve themselves, swap drivers, and break out some food, they had been driving constantly the entire day.

Bored, Arthur picked up Merlin's phone, unlocking it and clicking the web browser. They were high up right now, so the signal was pretty reliable. There was a news site that still occasionally updated, someone somewhere still operating it. It rarely said much beyond an emergency broadcast to stay inside and sit tight until the military could be dispatched. At least it meant some other people were still alive.

His eyes widened at the header that covered the website this time, however.

"Merlin!" he hissed, twisting to shake the man awake. "Merlin, wake _up_."

A hand came up, batting tiredly at him. "Not...sleeping, Sire..." Merlin muttered sleepily.

Amused, Arthur quirked a brow. "Sire now, is it?"

Merlin's eyes flickered open, gazing at him for a moment before clarity returned to his gaze. "Of course not. I was being facetious," he muttered, sitting up.

"Now, it sounds to me like you were having an enjoyable dream..." Arthur said, shooting him a shit-eating grin.

Merlin sent him a look that said it certainly could be.

"Okay you two, I don't need the details of your sex life," scolded Gwaine.

Merlin chuckled. "Okay, so, what was so important _his majesty_ had to wake me up?"

"You two are..."

"Shit, right. Here." He handed over the phone.

Merlin took it, brow furrowing as he read the header. "Bloody hell..."

"That's our government," Arthur said grimly.

"Anyone want to fill me in?" Gwaine asked, reaching over to take a sip out of his bottle of water. "Wish it was vodka..."

"The army bombed London," Arthur said grimly.

He spit it out. "Shit, what? They wouldn't—"

"That's not all. Looks like the Americans have been bombing all major cities in North America, too, trying to curb the spread," Merlin murmured, eyes still on the phone. "It won't work, though. They're probably just making it worse."

"That's the Americans for you. Pull the trigger first, think after," Arthur said.

"The Canadian government was trying to take refugees. Looks like that backfired, too. It just gets worse." Merlin sounded strained. "The government wants to bomb other major places. They warn all civilians to get out of the cities."

"That's such _bollocks_!" Arthur snapped. "They're just going to kill the survivors!"

"No shit," Merlin said grimly, setting the phone down. His eyes looked strained. Then, quieter, "We have to stop this before we kill ourselves."

"That's a bit extreme, don't you think?" Arthur asked.

"Is it? And the genocide of World War II? Witch hunts? The treatment of plague victims during the outbreak of the bubonic plague? History has no lack of examples of humans killing humans to protect themselves. It's the selfless ones who would do anything for another that are hard to come by."

Merlin's eyes took on a faraway look at the end, his expression grim. It prompted Arthur to reach back and catch his hand. "Try to be more pessimistic, why don't you." This serious mood needed to go.

Merlin sent him a grim smile. "It's history."

"You chose a wonderful major. Truly," Arthur muttered.

"It's your major, too, sweetheart," Gwaine pointed out, making Merlin grin. At least he had a sense of _not_ constantly making things about doom and gloom, Arthur noted.

"Unfortunately. Means I have to deal with you in my class..."

Gwaine snorted a laugh. "At least it's not boring, being stuck in your car."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur asked, trying not to feel offended, but failing.

"It means if I have to play third wheel to a happy couple, at least you guys are funny."

"Okay, I get Gwen and Lance," Arthur said, pulling a face, but nobody in the van is dating."

"Hah! You didn't deny that you and Merlin are a couple."

Merlin snorted a laugh from the back.

"Why on earth would I deny that?" Arthur asked, scoffing.

"Hey, who says I want to date you?"

"You do, with the way you keep falling all over me."

"Okay I lied," Gwaine said, grinning. "I do want all the details of your sex life. How is he, Merl?"

"Don't call him that," Arthur muttered.

At the same time, Merlin said, "Don't call me that."

"Practically finishing each others' sentences. That's almost cute."

"Shut it, Gwaine," Arthur muttered.

"He's not bad, actually. A little bossy, but that can be charming in the right circumstances."

Arthur felt his face heat. Oh, they were _not_ having this discussion. He had wanted to distract them from bad news after more bad news, but not like this. Stubbornly, he opened a game of solitaire on the phone.

"I think you embarrassed him, Merl."

Arthur refused to look up, even as their chuckles filled the car.

* * *

"This is bloody _brilliant_ ," Merlin growled, pacing up alongside the transport truck and kicking its roof for good measure. Its roof, because it was lying on its side, covering the entire road. On a bridge. "I thought stuff like this was for shitty horror movies."

"There must be something we can do," Gwen suggested, brows furrowed.

"If you have any ideas," that did not involve magic, "I would love to hear them," Merlin grumbled.

She shrugged, and he looked around those assembled. Of course not, and that left him with a very hard decision. He _could_ move it, but that would involve a display of perhaps a little too much magic. His recent tricks had not even been noticeable, but tossing a truck into a ravine? Very noticeable.

"We might have to just find another route," Morgana said grimly.

"A few extra hours, maybe, but we can't lose the cars," Morgause agreed.

Merlin left them to it, wandering back to the car. Arthur was passed out in the back seat, and he quietly opened the door, lifting the blond's legs and sliding in under them.

"Hm? Merlin?"

"We've got a mess," he muttered, reaching over to scratch Selene behind the ears. The black cat rose, stretching her muscled body languidly before nuzzling his hand.

"What else is new," Arthur muttered, obviously not intending it to be a question. After a moment, he joined Merlin in petting Selene. "What kind of cat is she?"

"Purebred bombay. I like the panther look."

"It's a good look. Her name is...Selene?"

Merlin nodded, finding that he appreciated the distraction. "After the goddess of the moon. My late girlfriend used to turn into a bastet—a winged panther, basically—every night at midnight. So I thought, what the heck."

Arthur was giving him a look, and Merlin found himself grinning. "Kidding," he lied. "Sheesh, don't be so serious."

Arthur sighed. "There's something about you, Merlin..."

"So I've been told," he said wryly. "But enough about cats. I think I'm going to go on foot to look for a way around that," he gestured to the truck. "Want to join me?"

Arthur pulled a face, but nodded. "Someone has to keep you safe."

"Well. That rules you out, Arthur," he shot back, grabbing his backpack and slipping out from under Arthur. "Let's go."

In the end, Morgana insisted on joining them, and Merlin could scarce find it in himself to mind. More eyes to see his magic, yes, but also more hands to protect Arthur. The latter won out.

They set out at once, skirting the guard rail and descending into the ravine. The stream was running high with the onset of fall, making the trip down somewhat perilous. Merlin kept a close eye on Arthur, catching him when he slipped and nearly fell.

"You are useless, cousin," Morgana said, as she easily and deftly descended the slope. Merlin hid a smile by looking away. It all felt so familiar—well, minus the part where this Arthur truly _was_ a great deal less competent. What had once been said as only a friendly heckle was now far too real.

It was frustrating. Merlin still loved Arthur, in every way imaginable. He had waited nearly fifteen _hundred_ years for Arthur's return, and while he was overjoyed to have his king back...he had hoped Arthur would actually... _be his king_.

This Arthur was not a leader. He was still Arthur in many ways, but he was also not Arthur. He was the product of growing up in the world of today, where the honour of the past was dead, and the needs of the people were not his responsibility.

Merlin was still cursed to love him, though. In the past, it had been a love of a subject to his king, with only hints of something more desired, but never pursued. Now, though, with _this_ Arthur, that repressed desire had come to the forefront, and the love of subject to king was left behind instead.

Left behind, because he _had_ no king. As much as Merlin appreciated being able to explore the feelings he had once hidden so carefully, he would trade it all in for the man they needed: The Once and Future King, Arthur _Pendragon_.

"Which way now?"

The words were harmless enough, a question the old Arthur had asked him many times in the past, but, for an instant, something inside Merlin snapped.

"I don't know, leading is supposed to be your job!"

Two sets of eyes turned to Merlin in surprise.

"...excuse me?" Arthur finally asked.

"Arthur, leading. That's amusing," Morgana said. Her tone carried a forced lightness, but the words cut through Merlin like a knife, the teasing not containing the same tone that it had in the past.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Arthur asked, annoyed.

It sounded so much like the past, but the meaning was so different, now. Arthur had been a good king, the greatest, but now Morgana's words carried too much truth. He had no idea, none, and it was up to Merlin, using what Arthur had taught him, to handle things.

"Nothing. Never mind. Sorry," Merlin finally said, rubbing his brow. "I just...it's been a long few days. Let's just find a place to cross."

"We should have just gone over the truck."

"If the cars could have driven over the truck, we would have gone that way, Arthur," Merlin grumbled, pacing the bank of the river. "The point is to find another way."

Mud quickly soaked into his boots, drawing a shiver out of him. Behind him, Arthur was complaining. At least some things never changed, because it would hardly be an expedition into the woods without Arthur blaming him for something.

"This looks passable," Merlin finally said, gesturing to a shallow point in the stream, where heavy tree boughs hung low over the water. "We can hold on to the trees while we cross."

"Not for _cars_ , _Mer_ lin."

"I'm not looking for cars. Driving back to find another road would take hours, and there's no guarantee it would be passable. Where we're going...is that open hill." He hoped it would have what he sought.

"There? Why?" Arthur asked, gesturing to aforementioned hill, which was barely visible in the distance.

"Farmland," Merlin said, "or so I hope."

They forded the steam without too much difficulty, but as they were ascending the other side, the dark skies, which had threatened rain all day, finally opened up.

"Bloody wonderful..." Arthur muttered, shaking water from his short hair. Merlin was reminded of long hunts in the pouring rain, trying to dry Arthur's chainmail after, and the prince's complaints that it was too we tor too cold... "Can't we have just one decent day?"

They had actually had a few days of nice weather, but Merlin decided against pointing that out. Instead, he shrugged. "It's England."

"Then where's my tea," Arthur grumbled, pushing passed Merlin to scale the hill. Melin found he couldn't withhold a snort of laughter. "Is something funny?"

"Good to see some things never change," was all he said, pushing on to follow, Morgana hot on his heels.

They walked the rest of the way in wet, miserable silence, until the trees opened up and spit them out into an open field. Nothing seemed to be moving, and Merlin hoped that was good sign. At least, a good sign insofar as not getting mauled by the undead.

"Okay, seriously, why are we here?" Arthur demanded. "It's wet, cold, and I don't see anything that is going to help us get the cars to the other side of that transport..."

"Unless you want to clear the trees away and drive down the ravine, that won't be happening. So let's go."

"My cousin isn't wrong," Morgana remarked, stepping up. "Why _are_ we here?"

"Horses." Turning, he headed towards the barn that could be seen in the distance.

"...horses? Are you kidding?" Arthur asked. Merlin ignored him.

As they got closer, Merlin was able to make out dotted shapes on the hillside, and he smiled to himself. Those weren't cows.

A quick peek inside the barn revealed it to be empty. An old wheelbarrow sat in the middle of the aisle, a pitchfork dropped nearby. Clearly, someone had been mucking out when the need to flee had arisen. They had, it seemed, had the foresight to let all the horses out first, at least.

Eleven stalls ran down each side, with doors for the feed room and tack room at the far end. Each stall was decorated with a neat name plate, and all of the doors stood wide open. A quick glance into the stalls revealed full water buckets, and fresh flakes of hay in each one. The scents of horse and hay brought back memories.

"Ugh, it _stinks_ in here," Arthur, predictably, complained.

Merlin ignored him, seeking instead the tack room. Rows of saddles greeted him, lined neatly with plaques displaying the horses' names on each rack. On hooks next to the saddles, matching bridals hung in neat rows.

Snatching a handful on lead ropes off a different hook, he tossed two to Arthur, and two more to Morgana. "Let's go. We'll need at least thirteen horses, but fifteen would be better."

"Why do we need horses," Arthur muttered, "when we have _cars_?"

It wasn't actually the worst question. The truth was, a part of Merlin just wanted to relive the old days, a deep part of him admitted. On the outside, he would never admit that, however.

"Horses are more mobile," was all he said. "Now come on."

Ignoring the grumbling that followed, Merlin led the way to the pasture fence. Now, he was no expert on how this barn dealt with its horses, but if he knew one thing... Grabbing the gate, he rattled it. Heads came up all over the pasture, and one horse even nickered to him.

It was not long before they had a crowd at the gate. Letting the horses pick their own hierarchy, Merlin began clipping on leads and leading them out of the gate.

"Take them into the barn. Let the horse pick the stall." Most of them would go to their own. The ones that did not could be stabled anywhere. Frankly, he cared very little, but it would help when saddling them to know which horse was which.

Arthur grumbled, but Morgana smiled at the first mare she was given, rubbing her cheek affectionately. Well, at least one of them was easy to work with.

Once the large pasture was emptied, Merlin set his own sights on the individual pastures. One held a mare, which he left alone, and two contained stallions, which he brought in.

As he led the final horse in, a solid black, Arabian stallion, which reminded him fondly of the horse he had often ridden in Camelot, Merlin glanced about the barn. The horses were all stabled, tearing at their hay enthusiastically—though the turn-out meant they were in decent shape after days of neglect.

Tugging the huge doors shut, he set the torches they had brought with them along the wall, shedding some light into the otherwise dim barn.

"I'm going to check all the horses over, if you two want to brush them down."

"Yes, Merlin, that is exactly what I want to be doing," Arthur muttered sarcastically.

"Where are the brushes?" Morgana, the much more tolerable of the two, asked.

After digging up the grooming supplies, Merlin gave her a quick lesson on brushing and picking feet, making certain to speak loud enough for Arthur to follow, then went about his own task of evaluating the horses' health.

Gums, to check circulation, feet and legs for lameness, backs for pain or discomfort, eyes for vision, and, lastly, temperament. He went over everything he could think of, mentally making a list of the ones that he would take, ones he might take, and ones he would not be taking. In the end, he ruled out four horses completely, and had seventeen others to choose from. A good number.

Luckily, the barn had an indoor riding arena, so Merlin pulled a few of the horses he was hesitant on from their stalls and lunged them briefly. He discarded one based on movement, leaving them with sixteen solid mounts.

"I'm going to show you how to manually stretch a horse," he told Morgana and Arthur as he returned with the final horse. "They're going to be all we have for travelling, so it's important we keep them fit, too." He had done this for Arthur's and the knights' horses for years, keeping them free of back pain and fit to be ridden daily. It was especially important for horses carrying a lot of weight.

As he went over the routine, Merlin found himself getting lost in the motions. He could almost believe this was Camelot, and he was preparing his and Arthur's mounts for another hunt that he would foil as best he could. For a moment, a lump rose in his throat, and he had to aggressively bite his own lip to ground himself.

"Merlin? Are you well?" Morgana asked, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Forcing a smile, he nodded. "Yeah. This just hurts the back after a while. Make sure you don't injure yourselves," he advised, straightening.

Leaving them to their task, Merlin hurried and began saddling the horses. Counting himself lucky that they had found a barn as organised as this one, Merlin worked quickly. A few of the girths and bridles did not fit quite right, but it was not too much work to find the right ones since most of them _did_ fit. As he did so, he also enchanted each horse. He did not use a major spell, but a rather simple one that would keep the horses from wandering off, and would ensure they returned if spooked away.

For each horse, he also brought along a halter and lead, and tacked on as many saddle bags as he could find. Lastly, he grabbed a few sheets and hay rope that could be used to lash their supplies to the extra mounts.

He saved the black Arabian for last. According to his stall's sign, the horse was named Ragnarok, and Merlin found himself smiling faintly at the irony of that. Patting the horse's neck, he led him from the stall.

"Go ahead and pick one each to ride," he said, fiddling with the stirrups of what would be his own saddle. "I just don't recommend that big bay over there, unless you know how to ride." The horse was the other stallion, and he did not trust an amateur riding him.

Morgana chose a white, Andalusian mare that was very much in keeping with the horses she had ridden in the past. Arthur chose a light bay, morgan gelding, though he kept pulling a face at the horse. Oh how much had changed, yet how little had changed.

Handing Ragnarok's reins to Morgana, Merlin took a moment to let the horses they were not using go. Removing their halters, he set them loose in the yard, doing the same for the mare he had left in pasture.

"You guys deserve a chance too," he said softly, patting the last horse before heading back inside.

"We lucked out not meeting any...thing," he muttered as he used the lead ropes to string the other horses together. The cars were gone from the yard, though, so he assumed the humans had all fled.

"Right...luck," Arthur muttered.

"It's weird," Morgana said softly, moving to help Merlin, "but it's almost—I mean, it's scarier here, because it's real life, but it's almost less scary too. We don't meet them everywhere. In fact, we've only seen a few outside the cities at all."

Merlin nodded. "It makes sense. They're attracted to sound, so it stands to reason that their own sounds attract each other, too. As long as we stay outside the cities, we should be safer."

"But they're smarter than in the movies, too," Arthur pointed out.

"Can't argue with that. We were lucky they never made it into the store," Morgana agreed.

Merlin opted to keep the sound-muffling barrier he had placed around the store to himself. It would also have the added effect of distorting line-of-sight for anything but humans trying to look inside. Better safe than sorry.

"We're lucky to be alive," was all he said, leading his horse, and the string of remounts, outside.

Checking on his backpack and his staff, Merlin then mounted the horse, needing a firm hand to settle Ragnarok as the horse danced out his nervous energy.

"I'll take the pack horses down through the ravine, Arthur you come with me. Morgana, take the mounts for the others down the road and meet us at the blockage."

"Bossy," Arthur muttered, though he nudged his horse back the way they had come.

Ignoring his griping, Merlin followed, taking the packhorses with them to be loaded up. It was a mostly silent trip, though Merlin gave Arthur quite a few pointers as they rode, such as how to sit when going up and down hills.

It was a faster trip back either way. Nobody seemed surprised to see the horses, and Merlin quickly confirmed that that was because Morgana had arrived ahead and informed everyone of the change in plans.

What that also meant was that the group was well on its way to moving from car to horse, the cans and clothing being bundled into the horse rugs and tied closed. From there, it was a reasonably easy process to transfer it to the pack horses. It was a sloppy job, but so long as it held, Merlin was satisfied.

A muttered spell ensured that it would.

Once the horses were packed, Selene settled contently on the back of one, Merlin sent the others over the transport, to their own mounts. Then he and Arthur led the pack horses back into the ravine.

"I can't believe we're leaving the cars..." Arthur muttered as his horse slipped a little down the hill, the ongoing drizzle leaving the ground went and sloppy.

"Do you ever stop complaining?"

"I'll stop when we start doing things that are _sensible_."

Merlin let the insult roll off him. All he had to do was keep him alive. That was what really mattered.

By the time they rejoined the others, they were all mounted and getting some basic riding instructions from Morgana, Morgause, Gwen, and Elyan, who it turned out had all taken riding lessons together years before. Of the four of them, only Gwen had really kept up with it long-term, and Merlin was more than happy to pass the string of packhorses off to her.

He took his place in the lead, with Gwen in the rear, and heeled Ragnarok into a brisk trot. The others followed, leaving the cars behind as they disappeared into the misty afternoon to the sound of iron-shod hooves hitting asphalt.

* * *

 _Thanks for the support, everyone! It means a lot._

Preview:

"Hello, Aithusa," he said fondly, stepping forward and laying a hand on the smooth, white scales of her snout. "It's been a while."


	9. What Dreams Can Say

Arthur was certain of one thing: he hated horses. They stank, they did not protect from the endless drizzle, they could not charge the phone...and his thighs and knees were on fire.

They had been riding for several hours when Merlin _finally_ called a stop for the night—and that was one other thing! They had to stop. No just...switching drivers and napping in the back. Oh no, now they'd be sleeping on the _ground_.

In the _rain_.

Merlin led them off the road, into the thick tree line that enclosed them on both sides. It was marginally drier, Arthur noted, and the drizzle was finally tapering off, leaving behind only a heavy fog and bitter chill. It only slightly improved the situation.

They dismounted, with more than a few grunts of pain accompanying the action. Merlin quickly demonstrated how to untack the horses—then proceeded to order them to keep half the horses saddled at all times anyway so what was the damn _point_?—and rub them down.

Arthur barely paid attention, instead moving to help with getting dry clothing and something to eat while Merlin tended the horses he had wanted so badly. Five pack horses, nine mounts, and two spares...what were they, a damn carnival? Cars were much easier.

He let those thoughts accompany him while he helped clear a patch of ground and dig a fire pit. Leon returned as he was finishing up, and together they got a fire going, despite the wet wood. Leaving Elyan and Leon to start their meal, Arthur proceeded to help set out bedding.

By the time he was done, so was Merlin. Despite his annoyance with the other man, Arthur wasted no time in making room for him on his bedroll. Merlin dropped down gratefully, accepting a heated can of stew from Leon with a polite nod.

"So, what was the little tantrum about earlier?" Arthur asked, using his fingers to scoop out his own stew, an action Merlin watched with amusement.

"Hm—wha-?"

"When you flipped out and demanded that I lead, then proceeded to make fun of me with Morgana."

"...right. Yeah. Uh. Sorry about that. I was just stressed," Merlin muttered, not looking at him.

"You sure that was it?" Arthur asked, tone carefully neutral.

"...what else would it be?" Merlin asked slowly, after a moment.

"Nothing. I just thought, maybe...you were getting at something else."

Merlin looked confused, then seemed to figure it out, after a moment. "Oh, that. I mean...I guess."

"You...guess." He stared at Merlin. "Try not to hurt yourself with excitement."

Merlin had the decency to flush a bit at that. "No, it's—I mean...dammit, Arthur, I'm tired. But if you want to, I'm sure I could find the energy."

"...you are a first class charmer. Really. Remind me again how I didn't fall for you sooner?"

Merlin sighed. "Never mind. I'll just sleep."

Despite his words, Merlin put up no fuss when Arthur dragged him away from camp a little later to...help him out of those wet clothes.

* * *

Morgana jolted awake with a soft cry, heart thundering painfully in her throat. Eyes wide, she scanned the clearing, barely seeing anything, or anyone, until her eyes landed on Merlin and...Arthur. Asleep, snuggled together like the adorable couple they were.

"Sister?"

"Morgause," Morgana said softly, smiling at her sister, "I'm here. I'm...okay."

"You do not look okay. What is it?"

"Just...a dream," she replied, rubbing her eyes. "A bad dream."

"...I suppose there is much cause for those, of late."

"Morgana?" Gwen's voice asked from nearby, cutting off Morgana's response. "Are you okay?"

Morgana nodded to her sister, then to her best friend. "Yes, Gwen, thank you. It was only a dream." A painfully vivid, realistic, heart-wrenching _dream_.

"Morgana? Is everything okay?"

This was the problem with everyone sleeping so close, Morgana decided as Arthur appeared beside her, kneeling on the wet ground. At his side was Merlin, who just looked sleepy.

"Yes, Arthur, Merlin, I'm fine. I just had a dream." How many times was she going to have to say that in the next minute?

This time, it was Merlin's turn to look concerned. "A dream? About what?"

"It...it was just a dream," she said, suddenly, inexplicably unable to meet Merlin's piercing gaze. Why was she so uncomfortable with his scrutiny?

"A dream that clearly upset you," he said softly.

"If she does not wish to speak of it, she does not have to," Morgause snapped.

"No, it's...it's okay, Morgause. I think I want to. It's not like it means anything, right?"

The others murmured ascent, but Merlin never moved. It was downright eerie.

"It's pretty...I don't remember it very well," she finally admitted. "There was a knife—maybe a sword of some kind?—and blood...it was Arthur's blood." Pausing, Morgana rubbed her forehead. How did she know that? She could not recall what had actually _happened_ in the dream. Just images. "And Merlin, you were crying."

"...right," Merlin said, plastering a goofy smile on. "Well, I think we're a bit passed the days when we swung swords around, so that doesn't seem terribly likely to happen. Though Arthur, if you do get yourself stabbed, I may actually _consider_ crying, so try not to. Maybe."

"A charmer, Merlin, really. But for your sake, I'll do what I can not to die."

"I'll hold you to that."

Arthur smiled in an almost sickening way at Merlin. "Just for you, Merlin."

Morgana felt her heart ease as she watched them. Just a dream.

* * *

Merlin would not settle down and just _go back to sleep_. For Arthur, it was almost a relief when he got up, leaving the warm blankets to...go relieve himself, probably. Arthur did not give it too much thought as he rolled over and tried to go to sleep.

He found sleep just as elusive as before, the image of someone stabbing him with a _sword_ far too prevalent. He tossed for nearly an hour before realising that Merlin had not yet come back. Without a second thought, he threw back the blanket and, snagging his boots and a torch, hurried for the woods, nodding to Leon, who was on watch, as he did so.

Away from the glow of the fire's embers, the absolute darkness of the woods pressed in on him. Fumbling with the torch, he flicked it on, seeking the trail of his boyfriend. He spotted the odd sign of passage here and there, and that was enough to keep him going, though worry clenched at his gut with each minute that he did not find Merlin.

After nearly half an hour of searching, Arthur finally, finally heard something. Following the noise, he was rewarded with the sight of a glow in the distance—Merlin's torch, he assumed. Hurrying forward, he hailed him softly.

"Merlin! Where have yo—"

Something hit the back of his head, and Arthur knew no more.

* * *

Aithusa's wings gusted over the trees, filling the small clearing where Merlin waited, far from the group to ensure nobody accidentally noticed the _dragon_ swooping in. She landed with a thump, head bowed in reverence.

She had filled out, in the years after Camlann. The stunting that had affected her in her early years was all but non-existent, now, and she was nearly as large as Kilgharrah had been. Despite their rocky start with her allegiance to Morgana, they had grown close after centuries of only having one another.

 _You called, Emrys?_ her voice echoed in his mind. That was one issue that time had not resolved—her speech. While she _had_ learned to speak eventually, she often slurred her words, speaking with a noticeable lisp. So, she preferred telepathic communication when it was available.

"Hello, Aithusa," he said fondly in Old Brittonic. Though Aithusa knew modern English, there was something comforting about slipping into their native tongue. Stepping forward, Merlin laid a hand on the smooth, white scales of her snout. "It's been a while."

 _Too long, Emrys. I grow lonely._

He could tell from her posture, the way she leaned into his touch, that she spoke only truth. Reaching around, he scratched under her chin. "I'm sorry, Aithusa, but what you felt turned out to be the truth. Arthur has returned, and I have been watching over him."

She hummed softly, a thin stream of smoke escaping her nostrils as she considered his words. _Returned, yet you do not seem as happy as I would expect._

She read him like a book. "It's...been harder than I anticipated. I have to make many accommodations for him, because he's a product of this time, and not that one. It's...been hard, though I truly am happy to have him back."

 _Still, something bothers you, else you would not have sought me out._

"Sometimes," he said slowly, finding the words he struggled to admit to himself even harder to say aloud, "I wonder if he is capable of fulfilling his destiny...whatever that may be. I know mine, it's what it has always been: protect Arthur. I try to—"

 _Pendragon_. That single word cut through his thoughts completely.

"What?"

 _Your duty was ever to Arthur Pendragon. Is this Arthur Pendragon?  
_  
Merlin's brow furrowed. "I fail to see how a simple last name change, brought about because his _family no longer exists_ , could affect that much. All of them were born to new families, some in different countries. That's what happens when people are reincarnated."

 _We speak not of others, it is Arthur of whom we speak_ , she said, sitting up at last and adjusting her wings.

Merlin frowned. She had a point, but it also felt like she was missing _his_. "Aithusa, he's still Arthur. The name doesn't matter."

 _And if it does? Was it not you who says he is not Arthur, despite being Arthur?_

"I...suppose?" He shook his head. "I mean, yes, but he is all we have. I'm here because I fear for his life."

 _Speak, then,_ she said, after a long moment of looking at him, _and I will advise as best I can._

"Morgana had a dream," he said after a long moment. The name brought the faint rustling of scales as Aithusa shifted in interest. "In that dream, she said she saw Arthur's death. A sword, me crying... It seems like it may have been a vision of the past, but...but Morgana was a seer. Seers see the future," he said softly. "What if this is a vision of...of Arthur dying? Again?" He found himself choking faintly on the words. "I don't think I could stand to—" Watch him die again.

 _You believe in Morgana's dreams so strongly?_

"Like I said, she was a seer before, and even if she has no magic here, I believe I can trust the Old Religion well enough to believe that they would send me a warning through her."

 _...your theory is not implausible_ , she agreed, _however I fear it is not the only explanation._

Merlin frowned. "If you say it was just a dream..."

 _Nothing of the sort. Tell me, what do you know of the magics that currently plague this world?_

So, it _was_ magic, then. He had worried, suspected even, but had clung to the hope that he was wrong. "The undead rise at dawn. That's...all. I was hoping you might know more, truthfully."

 _And so I do. What is happening stems from Avalon, and it is resurrection magic of the highest calibre._

Resurrection magic? Also as he had suspected. "...yes. We're heading this way to retrieve Excalibur," he admitted.

 _A wise choice, but it will not entirely solve the problem_.

"Not unless I destroy every living corpse with it, no, it won't," he agreed, "but it will protect Arthur."

 _And do you not wonder_ _ **why**_ _Avalon is resurrecting the dead?_

"When Albion's need is greatest, the Once and Future King will return," he recited. "I don't know why, but I do know we need Arthur to stop it."

 _Perhaps more than you think._

"You know?" he asked, shocked.

 _I_ _know nothing, only suspect. I believe the seer's dream may play a vital role in that._

Merlin swallowed thickly. "I can't fight it if I don't know where the threat is coming from!"

 _First you must decide something for yourself, I think: is the dream a warning, or is it advice?_

* * *

Aithusa's words haunted him the entire walk back to camp. There was no way she was right. Just...none. Morgana must have been seeing the past, or a warning of what Merlin needed to fight. Nothing more than that.

When Merlin returned to camp, he expected to find Arthur sound asleep. What he found instead was an empty pallet and a worried Leon.

"He got up to...well, take care of things over two hours ago! He never came back, and then I realised _you_ were gone too, Merlin, and I..."

Merlin looked around the bustling camp. More than a few people were shooting him worried looks, and Gwen went so far as to approach and lay a hand on his arm.

"We'll find him, Merlin. He probably just got lost."

Or he had tried to follow him. Without a second thought, Merlin stalked to his mount, fighting back the rising panic. Without a word to anyone, he stretched and saddled the stallion.

"Merlin!" Lancelot jogged over, leading his horse. "I'm coming with you."

"Go in a different direction," Merlin ordered coolly. How could he have let this _happen_? He literally had one job: protect Arthur! This made two lifetimes...!

Taking Ragnarok's reins, he led the horse forward, compelling Selene to follow as he did so. Ignoring everyone else, he sent the cat the command to find Arthur. Without hesitation, she bounded ahead, and he followed.

She led him through the trees, to an old deer trail that had seen recent use. Picking up Selene and mounting Ragnarok, he nudged the horse into a canter, his path clear to him for the moment.

If anything had happened to Arthur, Merlin did not know what he would do with himself. Could he justify surviving if he had truly failed his king, and the world, twice? Could he forgive a world that would take Arthur from him twice? The very thought made bile rise in his throat, and had him kicking the horse into a gallop.

A wave of magic pushed the tree branches aside, and a silencing spell muffled the hoofbeats. The trail was easy to follow, at least until it led back to the highway.

Letting Selene down, he walked behind the cat for a time, before calling her back once he was satisfied with the trail. Then he really made the horse run. Arthur was still alive, he had to be, so Merlin just had to be in time to save him.

No matter what.

The moment he spotted smoke on the horizon, Merlin reined in. It was nearing midday by this point, but he ignored the rumbling in his stomach, too focussed on gauging the distance to the fire.

Sending the cat down, he had her confirm the direction before heading towards it. As he approached, he drew his staff. They had threatened Arthur, and Merlin was not known for being merciful when Arthur's life was on the line.

* * *

Arthur was terrified. Oh, he had seen enough post-apocalyptic movies to know what to expect when he had regained consciousness. They would torture him, force him to give up the location of his friends and family. Then they would descend on the others, robbing and killing for supplies...

Merlin was there. He needed to protect them, but he did not know if he could.

"Awake, I see."

The woman who approached him had hard eyes, a fresh cut splitting open her forehead, nose, and cheek. It only made her look more dangerous.

"...no thanks to you," he grumbled, the words spilling out before he could think better of it.

The woman laughed, flicking red locks over her shoulder. "You've got guts...or you're an idiot. I guess we'll find out which, hm?" Arthur wanted to speak, but his tongue felt frozen in his mouth. "Nothing to say? Good. I hate when the squeal. Here's what you _are_ going to say: you're going to tell me all about where you came from. Where, how many people, what sort of supplies, arms..." She fingered a knife. "All of it."

Arthur could not have told her his own name. As she had been speaking, it felt as though his tongue had swollen to six times its natural size, his throat had closed over, and every part of his mouth and neck was now made of sandpaper. All he managed was a scared whimper.

 _Think of Merlin!_ he told himself. He needed to protect Merlin.

...he needed Merlin to come save him, as he always had before. Who was he kidding? He could not be the protector, and they all knew that. He was useless, a coward, whose only value was as the person who complained the most. The thought made his blood run cold.

"My, my, after the attitude a minute ago, I thought you might have some backbone _and_ a brain. Seems like it's option B after all: idiot."

The insult could not do more than make him lower his head in shame. It was true. He was a coward and a fool. How could he let himself get captured like this? Merlin and Morgana were probably worried sick, and, and...

The knife pressed into his throat, and Arthur swallowed in terror. This was it. He was so dead...!

"Talk, or die..."

 _Merlin!_

* * *

 _I apologise for the wait. I lost the will to work on this for a time. Also Pokemon came out. Whoops..._

Preview:

"I'm sorry, Arthur...but I think you have to die."

 _Whoops._


	10. When Conviction Holds

_Merlin_!

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, praying, begging to gods he was not certain he believed in, that someone would save him.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

The familiar voice drew Arthur's attention, his eyes snapping up to land directly on Merlin. The young man was mounted on his black horse, and even had his cat perched on the front of the saddle. In his right hand, he held the reins, in his left, that staff he was so good with.

Arthur did not think it would save him, here. He had seen guns. Merlin could not fight guns. One part of him, a small part, screamed internally for Merlin to run, to have his friend save himself. That voice screamed and raged that sacrificing himself for Merlin would be worth it. Something about that felt...important.

It was not what passed his lips.

"Merlin...help," he pleaded, his voice sounding shaky to his own ears.

"Oh, and who are you to tell me what to do or not to do?"

Merlin sat his horse like a rock, the youthful expression he wore so often completely hidden behind a cold, hard mask that Arthur had only seen once before, when Merlin had run over that person the first day. And even that had nothing on this.

"Merlin," he said flatly, "though I am also known by the name Emrys."

"Well, Merlin...Emrys. It's good of you to join us. Perhaps you can help incite our friend here," she jabbed the knife hard enough to draw blood, making Arthur whimper, "to speak."

"Oh, I don't think so." And there were those cold, hateful eyes.

Arthur tried not to let out a sob as he noticed that the woman's cronies had been slowly surrounding Merlin, guns raised and pointed straight at him. "Oh, I do think so."

"Don't you know the legend of Emrys? The immortal sorcerer," What? "who waits always for his king?—there's more truth to those legends than most would believe. Now unhand him."

Three things happened at once. The woman laughed, Merlin raised his staff, the stone at the top suddenly glowing a brilliant blue, and a blinding flash lit the area, accompanied by a deafening crack. The light left Arthur momentarily blinded.

As he blinked the spots from his vision, the first thing Arthur saw was Merlin furiously wrestling with a spooked mount.

The second was the charred corpses surrounding Merlin.

The knife fell from the woman's nerveless fingers. With a cry, she shoved Arthur away and tried to crawl backwards. "Y-y-you...take him! Take him!" she shrieked, her fear obvious.

Arthur just felt numb, his brain unable to keep up.

"Better," Merlin said, voice cold, "but too late." He raised his staff again, and a second clap of thunder followed, this one striking behind Arthur.

Shakily, Arthur turned. Of the woman, nothing remained save ashes.

"Mer...lin?" Arthur asked, unable to keep the note of terror from his voice as he gazed at his friend.

With the threat gone, Merlin slumped forward, his shoulders sagging and the staff dropping to the ground. After a moment, Merlin looked up, the expression in his eyes almost...scared? Whatever he saw on Arthur's face clearly did not comfort him, as Merlin flinched and looked away again.

"What...the hell was that?" he finally ventured. The air stank of burning hair and flesh. He wanted to vomit, but could not bring himself to look away from Merlin, partially from awe...but mostly from fear, if he was entirely honest.

Merlin did not answer right away, but he did look up again, and this time there was some of that hardness back in his gaze. "Stop...stop it! Stop looking at me like...like _that_! I can't do this again. I can't...I just _can't_."

Couldn't what? Somehow, Arthur did not have the courage to ask, not of the man who had just fried ten men without taking a single step.

"Why...didn't you tell me?" he finally asked instead. With the shock wearing off, he found himself feeling a touch...hurt that Merlin had kept such a secret from him. He was _reasonably_ certain a more civil display of his magic, and a calmer explanation, might not have fried his brain quite so badly. Probably.

"Because I hate when you look at me like that."

Well, that was cryptic.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm evil. Like the magic I was born with somehow _changes_ me. Like you don't _trust me anymore_. Like...like _we_ have to _change_."

The accusations enraged him. Merlin had lied to _him_ , and then had the audacity to blame Arthur for it? Not a chance. "...well, I mean, forgive me for feeling a little deceived! Tell me, could that trick have saved Perce? What about everyone else who died? What could you have done but you _haven't_?"

"I lost one," Merlin muttered, "but I saved _everyone_ _else_. Do you honestly think I haven't been doing everything in my power to keep you alive? Here's the thing, magic attracts them! Badly. Why do you think so many started gathering outside the store? I was using magic to protect the building, and it was _luring them in_. I could have dropped the spell, but then they would have seen us and attacked. Don't...don't ever say I wasn't doing enough! I'd do anything for you, Arthur. That includes lying to you to keep you alive."

Arthur's brow furrowed during the tangent. Should he believe it? Could he believe it? Or was this all Merlin's game? He was...magic! _Magic_! "How...can I trust you?"

Merlin looked like he had been kicked in the gut. Swallowing, he ran a hand through his hair.

"Aithusa was right," he said softly. "You aren't him. I wanted...I tried to force you to be Arthur, but you _aren't_ _him_."

"Merlin...?"

"The Arthur I knew would never have begged for his life. He would have told me to run. To save myself—I wouldn't have, but he...Arthur never liked when I was in danger. I was always the first thing he took care of when danger hit. He never looked to me to save him. He jumped in front of _me_. He shoved me behind him. He cleared a path for me to escape. He protected me as much as I ever protected him.

"You don't do that. You watch out for your own neck. Oh, you want your friends to be safe, but you would have given up there location with the right torture. Arthur never cared what happened to himself. His friends and subjects came first, always."

"...what are you—Merlin, who are you?" he asked around a lump in his throat. The words stung, but more than that they confused him. What on earth was he going on about? The man had magic. Maybe he wasn't fully sane.

"I am who I told you. Merlin Balinorson, the personal manservant to the Once and Future King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot. To the druids, I was Emrys. I have waited nearly fifteen hundred years for the return of my king...and I waited in vain," he muttered, the hurt in his voice painful to hear. "Kilgharrah promised me he would return. I suppose reincarnation is just not the same thing." That last was whispered with such loss that Arthur would have wanted to cry, had he not been so, so confused.

"...maybe you need to lay down."

Merlin glanced at him, then sighed. "Perhaps. Come on, we should be off. That magic will attract the dead."

That was all Arthur needed to hear. Still reeling from the bombardment of very strange information—Merlin was not right in the head. Too many years studying history?—he climbed onto the horse behind Merlin. Without another word, Merlin dismounted and collected the dagger that had been used to threaten Arthur. Well, he supposed they should not waste weapons, he decided as Merlin remounted. With the weapon safely tucked away, they rode off.

* * *

 _Is it a warning, or is it advice?_

Those words haunted Merlin as they rode. There was no chance it was the latter. None. The dreams had always been warnings. Why would that change now? If it had been a suggestion, why not send it directly to _him_? Morgana's dreams had always been visions of the future. It did not make sense for that to change.

...and even if this Arthur was different, he was still all Merlin had.

"So...what's in the bag, exactly? You never go anywhere without it."

Merlin glanced back, eyes slightly unfocussed as he glanced at Arthur. "What bag?"

"The knapsack you never go anywhere without," Arthur said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. He even patted the bag, which rested on his back between them, for good measure. "I can tell you, it's not comfortable to cuddle."

"It's Arthur's crown," he said at last. "His crown, signet ring, and ceremonial cape."

Behind him, Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "Merlin,..do you really...believe all this? I mean, really? Yes, you have magic, I can't deny that, but...but having magic doesn't mean you are some mythological figure, even if you do share a name—if...Merlin is really your name."

Merlin felt his blood boil. "Merlin is the name my mother gave me!" he snapped. "And look inside if you're so inclined."

"Merlin..."

"Go on, look. They're yours anyway."

Arthur sighed, but finally did as told when Merlin heard the hum of the zipper. He sat still while Arthur rooted through the bag, and gave no reaction at the man's soft gasp.

"Is this...real gold?"

"Yes."

"Where did you get this?"

"I was given it at the end of Queen Guinevere's life. She requested that I safeguard it, lest it ever be needed again."

"That's...wow. It's heavy."

"The burden of ruling a kingdom isn't a light one," Merlin said, voice cold. "If you'd just _remember_ that."

"That isn't fair," Arthur snapped right back. "You come and tell me I'm some reincarnated hero and now you blame me for not _remembering_ something that may or may not actually be true!"

"Arthur, Gwen, Lancelot, Merlin, Morgana, Percival...you never questioned?"

"...we joked about it, once or twice," he admitted, "but never gave it serious consideration. We just said like...we were friends because of the names, because it would be a shame to let that chance go to waste."

Merlin let out a long sigh. "Well, whatever your reasons, I was around to watch you properly."

"...you were really my servant?"

"The worst one you ever met, as you told me. Many times. For some reason, you kept me around anyway."

"Well, I mean...you were like my...lover? If I married Gwen?" The disbelief in his voice was obvious.

Merlin stiffened, angry. "Nothing of the sort. I had nothing but respect for my king. I would never...!" He let out a long sigh. "I acted as Arthur's advisor, and his bodyguard though he never really knew about that. I was his best friend, but nothing more."

"You were quick enough to jump in bed with me."

"Not being anything more...doesn't mean I never wanted it. I just never even considered acting on those desires. He was my _king_!"

"And what am I?"

"You aren't my king, if that's what you mean. Kilgharrah always insisted that my duty was to protect you, and I will protect you...but I'm not your follower. _You_ aren't my king."

Arthur fell silent then, though whether because he was hurt, or if it was something else, Merlin had no idea. He was content to let the silence stretch, Aithusa's words still troubling him. Whatever he told himself, after the disaster his heedless disregard for Kilgharrah's advice had meted out last time, he vowed to be less hasty when making decisions.

Aithusa had given him one other thing to consider, as well: why _was_ this happening? Merlin had been prophesised in the past to protect Arthur, and Arthur had been prophesised to die. In the end, that prophecy had been self-fulfilling...

Ragnarok jerked to a stop as he yanked on the reins, a sudden, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He had spent many long years reflecting on his actions during his decade in Camelot, and how each choice had ultimately led to Arthur's death. If he had killed Mordred, Arthur would have lived. Had he killed Morgana, Arthur would have lived. Had he been there for Morgana, Arthur may have lived. Had he left Aithusa's egg alone for a few hundred more years? Lived.

Every choice had just dug Arthur's grave deeper, and every choice had come because of advice and visions...the prophecy had used him to fulfil its own goals. Who was to say it would be any different this time?

"Merlin, as much as I love sitting here, why did we stop?"

Reining Ragnarok around, Merlin booted the stallion into a gallop, forcing Arthur to grab on tightly.

"Merlin! Asking why we stopped does not mean try to kill me!"

Merlin ignored him, galloping straight back towards the field where he had met with Aithusa earlier. It was a ways away, but he rode hard until they were forced back into the trees, slowing to a trot and then a walk.

"Well, now that that's over with, mind telling me why you were so keen on breaking our necks? As eager as I am to get back, I would prefer to do so intact."

"...the prophecy," he finally offered after a long while. "It foretold that when Albion's need is greatest, the Once and Future King, Arthur Pendragon, will return. If I have learned one thing about prophesies, though, it's that they're _always_ self-fulfilling."

"...meaning?"

"It's entirely plausible that your return is the _cause_ of this...apocalypse."

"...you're...kidding, right?"

"I wish I was," he muttered, as he finally reined in within the clearing. Sliding from the horse's back, he motioned Arthur down, then, in a moment of foresight, knocked the horse out with a sleeping spell.

"Wha—?"

"He'll be fine, but I don't want to lose him." Then he turned to the heavens and called for Aithusa.

The dragon appeared more quickly this time, likely staying nearby in expectation of being summoned again. As she swooped down, Merlin heard Arthur swear, turning to run for the trees. Merlin caught his arm and held him fast.

 _Emrys_.

"I need to know, Aithusa. Is the magic causing this mess happening because Arthur was reincarnated?"

The man in question was looking between the two of them, his already-pale skin two shades lighter. "Merlin...Merlin that's...that's a..."

 _It is not implausible._

"That isn't an answer!"

 _That is because I do not have one, Emrys. I can only theorise, the same as you.  
_  
"How can I know for certain?"

 _You cannot. You must make your choice, and then live with the consequences, whatever they may be.  
_  
"So...if I'm wrong..."

 _You will doom us all, for there is only one correct path.  
_  
"How can I choose, knowing that?" he shouted.

 _You had no troubles in the past._

"In the past it was simple! Protect Arthur. I did whatever it took to do that."

 _Did you?_

"Of course I did! I destroyed _two armies_ for him! I killed Morgana! I fought Mordred. I let Lancelot die! _What more was I supposed to do_?"

 _No one is questioning your devotion then, it is now that I question._

That gave Merlin pause. Uncertainly, he glanced over at Arthur, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "Mer...lin? What are you...what _are_ you?"

"What are you saying, Aithusa? I order you to spit it out," he said, not looking away from Arthur. Memories of Camelot or not...he was all he had.

"That you mussst...ssserve your...king," she said aloud, rocking back on her haunches and spreading her wings. "How you...choossse that...isss for you to decccide." With a flap of her wings, she was gone.

Merlin felt numb, too numb to call her back, too numb to _move_. She had all but said what she thought was causing the undead to rise, but her solution was...a risky one.

But she was right, and he knew that. For once in his life, he needed to take the advice he was given, no matter the cost. Closing his eyes, he reached to touch the dagger he had taken from the kidnappers' camp.

"I've made so many mistakes," he finally said softly, turning fully away from Arthur. "So many. It was my actions that got Arthur killed in the past. He died in my arms not far from here, and I sent him away to Avalon to await the day he would return. But he never did. Back then, I had such a clear picture. When did it change?" he asked softly. "When did Arthur returning become Arthur reborn?"

"I...don't know?"

"When you came. I kept my eye on the world, and first I saw Uther, and then you came and I knew I had been watching for the wrong thing...but was I?"

"Merlin...what are you saying?"

"You may have Arthur's soul, but you aren't him. You aren't the king we need." He clutched the dagger. "The magic...it's not trying to revive the undead, it's trying to _resurrect Arthur_. But it can't...because you're in the way."

"...Merlin, what the _bloody hell_ are you going on about?"

"I'm sorry, Arthur...but I think you have to die."

Arthur didn't say anything for a long, long moment, and then he laughed. It sounded forced. "Magic, dragons, resurrection...you do realise how insane you sound? You're overtired and stressed out. Let's put this behind us and get back to camp before we do something we regret. The others are waiting."

It would be easier if Arthur would just hate him, Merlin thought, feeling almost detached from his body. Everything was wrong, it was so, so wrong, but what could he do? He had no answers, only theories, and the world...he knew that the Arthur from the past would want him to take this chance.

It was that thought, and that thought alone, that led to him drawing the dagger from his belt.

"Merlin...please, you're kinda freaking me out." Arthur was trying so hard to make light of it, but the fear in his voice was real. "Mer—!"

A hand landed on his shoulder, and Merlin spun, driving the dagger up, hard and true, into the soft flesh just below Arthur's left ribs. The man convulsed once, a pain whine escaping lips that quickly started frothing blood.

Merlin caught him as he fell, lowering Arthur to the ground, as he once had so, so long ago. Distantly, he was aware of the tears soaking his own cheeks.

"Mer...lin? Why?" Arthur choked out, bloody spittle trickling down his chin and dripping onto Merlin's hand. He could see faint tears prickling the corners of Arthur's own eyes.

Merlin clutched him tighter, not bothering to stifle his own sobs. "Because I have to," he choked out. "I'm sorry. It...I never thought it would come to this." And the worst of it was, he was acting on a theory. He had no proof this was going to work. "I'm sorry, Arthur, I'm sorry."

Arthur convulsed again. Merlin could feel blood soaking into his own shirt. He did not care as he reached up to stroke Arthur's stubbly cheek. "I promise, if this...if this doesn't work, if this doesn't stop it...I will be following you shortly." He leaned down to kiss his brow. "If Arthur doesn't return..." And he meant it. Completely.

Arthur made no reaction as his eyes drifted closed, and the pained gasps for breath died off.

Merlin held him long through the rest of the day.

* * *

 _This was hard to write. It was the make-it or break-it chapter from the very beginning. I hope it...well, we'll see._

Preview:

"What...what is this?" Morgause demanded, her normally-confident voice carrying the faintest hint of fear. "What's going on?"

"To most, this is just another forest," Merlin muttered, "because most are not permitted passage. Stay close. They will not harm you so long as I am here."

"Where is...here?" Gwen asked, her brown eyes wide.

"Avalon, the last remaining home of magic."


	11. The Price You Must Pay

It was not until dusk that he was able to bring himself to move again. Ragnarok had long since woken, and Merlin dragged the horse over, clumsily shoving Arthur's boy into the saddle. Without another thought, he took the reins and led the stallion back towards camp, Selene trotting at his heels.

As he walked, he numbly toyed with the dagger, cleaning it off and sticking it back in his belt. Maybe he would use it to kill himself, if this failed.

He made the walk back in grim silence, and eventually he was found by Gwaine, not far from the campsite.

"Thank fuck, Merlin, Lance spotted... Merlin? What— _shit_. You...found him." His friend's face had slipped from happy to anguished in moments. "Merlin..."

He kept walking. All day, he had felt like an observer in his own body, and it seemed as though another spoke the next words.

"I killed them."

"Killed who? Merlin? Merlin, you're kinda freakin' me out."

"The people who took Arthur."

A hand caught his shoulder, wrenching Merlin around. He realised then that he had begun to cry again.

"Shit..." A pair of warm arms found their way around Merlin's shoulders, tugging him in to a hug. "I'm sorry, Merl..."

Merlin was not sure what hurt worse, the lie or the truth. One thing he was sure of, though, was that he was not in the mood to accept comfort. He did not deserve it.

Breaking out of the hug, he tugged Ragnarok forward. "Come on. We've wasted too much time here already."

"What...what's wrong with you, Merlin?"

Merlin ignored him; it was a rhetorical question. Without another word, he led Ragnarok back to camp and, with painful care, pulled Arthur off the horse's back. Rigor mortis was fully set in by this point, and he found himself struggling with the body. The weight threw him off, and then he was falling. Strong arms caught them before he hit the ground.

"Merlin? Are you okay?" Elyan's voice asked in his ear. The tears were still falling.

If he was wrong about this...

With Elyan supporting him, Leon and Gwaine carefully extracted Arthur from his grasp, carrying him away.

"Merlin?" Morgana's voice was soft, though strained. Extracting himself from Elyan, he turned and gave her a proper hug. Her sobs were not subtle things.

"I don't mean to push you guys," Leon said slowly, coming over and rubbing Morgana's back, "but we have to go."

Carefully, Merlin extracted himself, glancing at Leon. "Gwaine said as much. What's going on?"

"Spotted a few of those...creatures a ways back, when we went out looking for the two of you. Rode back hard and started packing. Gwaine went off hoping to find you. Guess he lucked out."

Merlin finally nodded, visibly pulling himself together. A quick glance revealed that the camp was indeed mostly packed, and horses were saddled. Without a word, he turned and mounted Ragnarok.

"Are we...we still need to bury him," Gwen said slowly.

"Take him," Merlin said, his own voice sounding a touch cold to his ears. "We'll bury him further out."

"And at dawn? Merlin, if we don't bury him before dawn, he'll rise again, and it's not early," Lancelot argued. "Maybe we should ju—"

"No, he won't. The undead won't rise anymore."

"Merlin, you can't possibly know that," Leon said, frowning.

"I took care of it," he said, heeling Ragnarok into a walk and ignoring the confused looks the others sent him. Either he had to be right, or he was going to give up. There were no other options.

"Merlin..."

"Put him on a pack horse!" he finally snapped, spinning in his saddle to face the others. "I'm not asking!"

The others exchanged looks, but eventually they did as told. Good, because he was not abandoning Arthur's body to the wildlife...no matter which Arthur.

Merlin drove them hard that night, heedless of the mournings of those following him. He did not care. He had to know if his choice was the right one, or if he had ruined his own chance at happiness...and all of their lives.

By dawn, he would know.

The followed the main highway for hours, with only starlight and torches to see by. Heedless of the rumblings of his own stomach, Merlin pressed on, uncaring of his own comfort. They stopped several times to water the horses, and at some point Gwen handed him some stale bread, but beyond that, he simply rode on ruthlessly...until the isle of Avalon could be seen in the distance, though isle it was no longer.

In the dim light of predawn, he could just make out the broken spire that marked the home of the Sidhe, far in the distance. He hated it. He needed it.

The lake was gone, long since swallowed away by dense forest. Without a second thought, he reined his stallion down the slope and into the trees.

"So, are we getting close to that apothecary, Merlin?" Gwaine eventually dared, the first to try to speak to him since Gwen had insisted he eat something.

"There is no apothecary," he remarked flatly.

"So...we're here chasing a lie," Elyan said, riding up with a deep frown. "Did you even drag us here for any real reason, or is Arthur dead for no reason?"

Merlin's hands tightened on the reins, causing Ragnarok to toss his head. "You can go back anytime you want, but I intend to get exactly what we need to win this fight. I've never forced _any_ of you to come along. So either shut up and come on, or go," he hissed.

His words were met with stunned silence. Not bothering to wait for a response, Merlin kicked Ragnarok on. Let them come or let them stay. He didn't need them, had never really needed them...

He ignored the clenching in his heart that said there was nothing in the world he wanted more than their support.

Well, nothing save Arthur.

He let out a relieved breath anyway, when he heard them move to follow. _They_ meant more eyes to watch for danger. More bodies to protect Arthur...more...more...

 _Less loneliness_.

"Nobody is going to abandon you," Lancelot said, riding up beside him, "we just want to know why we're here. Frankly, that's not unreasonable, Merlin, though your reaction was."

"We're here looking for a magic sword," he said flatly.

"...Merlin, I swear, I want to support you, but the lying needs to _stop_."

"Excalibur was given to the protection of the Lady of Lake Avalon nearly fifteen hundred years ago. I mean to get it back."

Lancelot sighed. "Merlin, I'm trying to be serious."

"I am serious. Look around you."

"What...?"

"Just do it! All of you! For once in your lives, just _look_!"

As they rode, the forest grew denser, but it also pulled back, clearing a path for their mounts, before falling back in behind them, masking their trail. In the underbrush, small creatures watched them pass, even one keen-eyed goblin. To their right, a troll snorted.

"What...what is this?" Morgause demanded, her normally-confident voice carrying the faintest hint of fear. "What's going on?"

"To most, this is just another forest," Merlin muttered, "because most are not permitted passage. Stay close. They will not harm you so long as I am here."

"Where is...here?" Gwen asked, her brown eyes wide.

"Avalon, the last remaining home of magic."

Nobody said anything, and Merlin was more than content to stay silent. The last time he had been down here, he had still possessed the body of an old man, shortly before Arthur's rebirth. He regretted not coming here since. He felt...marginally at peace, here, surrounded by his kin. Avalon was all they had left.

"Look, I don't wanna be a pain, but can we rest sometime? My horse keeps tripping and frankly that's the only thing keepin' me awake," Gwaine finally ventured, his tone forcibly light.

"Not yet. We have to make it to the pond before dawn."

"Why, Merlin? Do you...are you going to save Arthur?"

The question surprised him, especially coming from Morgana. "What do you mean?"

"You said he wouldn't rise, and you're...talking about magic, and you insisted we take his body. Why?"

"Because he deserves to be buried here. He should never have had to die."

Morgana said nothing more, but a glance back revealed a contemplative look on her face. Well, let her think. He had more important things to be doing.

The others whispered a little amongst themselves as they rode, but nobody brought up stopping again. It was nearly full sunrise when the light reflecting off the pond's surface drew his attention.

A far cry from the mighty lake that had once stood here, Merlin had still never been more relieved to see it. Dismounting, he led Ragnarok forward, his eyes riveted to the rock mound in the centre of the large pond. At the heart of the mound, glinting like the dragon fire from which it had been forged, sat Excalibur.

"...there's really a sword. Now we just need someone to draw it and it can really be like the Arthurian legends," Gwaine joked. A withering glance from Merlin silenced him.

"Freya!" he yelled, standing just at the edge of the pond, but not touching the water.

After a moment, the surface of the pond began to ripple, growing in strength until small waves were lapping at Merlin's boots. For a moment, Merlin felt nothing but peace and belonging.

Freya emerged from the heart of the pond, her features as beautiful and timeless as Merlin remembered them. For just a moment, he allowed himself to feel all the love and affection he had held for her so long ago.

 _I've missed you, Merlin,_ she said in Old Brittonic.

 _It's been too long,_ he agreed, sending her a warm smile. _How have you been?_

 _...we've all been better. The world forgets, Merlin, and I fear soon we will all be gone._

I will do what I can. Right now, though, magic is being used for evil. I need Excalibur.

Of course, Merlin. I've kept it safe for you and Arthur. I hope it can help you.

Thank you, Freya,

he said, stepping forward and pulling her into a hug, heedless of the water now soaking his boots. Freya returned the gesture.

 _Try not to stay away so long next time._

I promise,

he agreed. And then she was gone, melting back into the water.

With one last glance back at his companions, who stared on in a mixture of curiosity, wonderment, and fear, he waded out further. Though the pond got quite deep in places, easily over his head, it never passed Merlin's knees as he approached the rock. Taking a deep breath, he stepped up and onto it, scaling the rock to its peak.

Though he had kept an eye on it, Merlin had not touched Excalibur since Arthur's death. Taking a moment to mentally steel himself, he took a deep breath and reached out to touch the sword's hilt. As with all dragon-forged blades, it was warm, the fires within never allowing the steel to truly cool. Closing his eyes, he pulled it free.

The sword was lighter than one would expect, and Merlin hefted its ancient, but still familiar, weight easily. Opening his eyes, he gazed down at the blade for a long moment, then slid it into his belt alongside the dagger.

The trip back was every bit as effortless, and he did his best to ignore the wide-eyed confusion in the eyes of those watching. Instead, he turned to his mount. "We should move—"

"Merlin." Morgana did not raise her voice, but somehow her tone cut through any thought.

"Morgana."

"Where did you get that dagger?"

"From the camp where Arthur was being held." Shit. "Their leader had it."

"Tell me, Merlin...did you kill my cousin?"

The words were not as unexpected as they should have been. Morgana had always been sharp, and quick to speak her mind. Despite the gasps from the others, Merlin just let out a sigh.

"Don't make me answer that."

"It's the same dagger from my dream. Why, Merlin? Why would you...?"

"Merlin...the fuck?" Gwaine said.

"I don't expect anyone to understand, but...I do what I have to do. For my destiny," he said softly.

"No...no _way_ , Merlin," Gwen said stubbornly, "I refuse to—there's no way you would...!"

Merlin sighed, feeling crushed under the weight of his own existence. "I'm afraid, Gwen, that you don't know me as well as you think." Very few people had ever known him very well. Very few.

Merlin fought back another sigh as Morgana drew her weapon. "You are going to explain yourself. Right. Now."

In a flash, he had drawn Excalibur, sighting down the blade as he pointed it straight at her nose. "No, I really don't think I have to." He did not have time for this! The sun was nearly up, and he needed to find Arthur! This was just another hindrance he _did not need_!

"You wouldn't...!" Her words told one story, her eyes another.

"Don't make me kill you," he said softly. "It's been a very long time since this sword was used, but the last person whose blood it took was Morgana Pendragon's. Please, don't make Morgana Hunter its first kill in this millennium."

"I-I..."

Merlin barely registered the crack of a shotgun, but he did register the searing-hot pain that erupted in his abdomen. Dropping Excalibur from nerveless fingers, he looked down at the blood, both old and fresh, already staining his shirt. Then his legs buckled, and he dropped like a rock.

"I...I didn't...I didn't mean to kill him!" Leon was shouting, and then Gwaine was at his side, saying...something. Merlin did not know what. Why did his mouth taste like blood?

In the distance, a horse screamed.

Merlin let his eyes drift closed, and when he opened them, it was to the sound of Arthur's welcoming voice. Not Arthur Hunter, but Arthur _Pendragon_ , complete with chainmail and arrogant expression. Hilariously, he was riding that unicorn he had killed so long ago. Clearly, this was the other side and Arthur had come to get him. All he could feel was peace at that thought.

Merlin tried to speak, to tease him, but the words would not come. With one hand, he reached up, mouthing Arthur's name. Then his hand dropped and his eyes closed.

He knew no more.

* * *

 _Sorry it took so long. I really have no excuse beyond low motivation, so there it is. Hope the chapter was worth the wait!_

 _Also, please trust me...just a little longer. There's a bigger picture, here. Promise._

Preview:

Arthur awoke.


	12. The Coming of Dawn

Arthur awoke.

He found himself at the foot of a tower that he thought was the same one Merlin had been taking him to, though the top had broken off it. He did not know what that meant. He also could have sworn he died, but a quick check of himself revealed that he was still very much alive.

Hadn't there been a lake here? Maybe it wasn't the same tower, then? But in that case, where _was_ he? Moreover, where was _Merlin_?

Standing took longer than he would have liked, and his legs were unsteady beneath him, like he had lain abed far too long. A few quick stretches remedied that problem...but still no Merlin.

Torn between exasperated annoyance and concern, Arthur ventured a short distance from the tower, eyes taking in everything around him. The shadows were long, but slowly retreating with the rising sun, and the thin fog that had been surrounding the hilltop was steadily burning off.

The hilltop where he had awoken was clear of trees, but not far away was the fringe of a dense forest. Merlin easily could have gone in there...

Cautiously, Arthur stepped forward, eyes scanning for movement as he hissed, "Merlin!" Receiving no response, he tried again, louder, until he was shouting his manservant's name—and a few colourful curses.

He was just about to give up and storm off back to the tower to wait—he _hated_ waiting, but if Merlin had gone for something, he knew it was best to stay where the man would return to. You know, unless he managed to get lost. Again—when movement in the forest caught his eye.

Ducking down, Arthur waited warily, wondering not for the first time where his damn sword was. After a moment, a white horse emerged—no, not a horse. It was a bloody unicorn, and not just any unicorn. If Arthur wasn't mistaken, this was the same unicorn he had shot, nearly ten years ago.

Its large head turned to him, and with a soft wicker, it strode over, hooves making scarcely a sound on the dew-dampened grass. Too Arthur's surprise, it stopped before him, then went down on one knee, its other foreleg stretched out before it. It was a pose Arthur was not unfamiliar with, having seen...larger noblemen's guards force their mounts into such a position many times, to allow for easier mounting. Hesitantly, Arthur approached.

The unicorn did not move, even when he was standing next to it, and finally Arthur sighed. "Did Merlin send you? He has," he wiggled his fingers, "you know, maybe he can talk to you or something." That would explain why Merlin had been so _upset_ by the creature's death—and great kings, he really had to re-evaluate a lot of what he thought he knew about Merlin, didn't he?

The unicorn raised its head, fixing him with a steady look out of one eye. Sighing to himself, Arthur stepped closer and swung his right leg over the unicorn's back, grabbing the thick mane as he did so. The moment he was settled, it stood.

"I swear, if this is some prank of Merlin's..." he muttered as they rose, the unicorn steadily walking towards the trees. What else could he do, because _nothing made sense_ , and clearly it was all Merlin's fault. It usually was.

The sun rose higher as he rode, the unicorn easily picking its way through the thick foliage. Arthur had no idea where they were going, and after nearly an hour of riding, he was starting to regret his choice to go with the unicorn. Just because Merlin had magic— _Merlin. Magic_ —did not mean all creatures of magic were safe. Or that magic was.

He was contemplating just falling off the unicorn and walking back when an ear-shattering crack echoed through the trees. For an instant, the unicorn froze—and Arthur was grateful he wasn't on a real horse, because it would have bolted—and then it reared anyway, screaming at the sky. Arthur was forced to throw himself forward onto the unicorn's neck, hands clutching his mane like a vice, to keep from sliding off.

Before he had even properly rebalanced himself, the unicorn landed and bolted, galloping directly towards the sound in a fashion that Arthur would tentatively call frantic. If an animal could _be_ frantic. All Arthur could do was hang on as they covered the short distance between them and the source of the sound.

Horses, shifting, nervous horses, was the first thing he saw, then a ring of people. It was what was in the centre that truly caught his attention, however.

For someone who had been trained from birth to analyse situations and always, always know what was around him, Arthur could not take his eyes from where Gwaine knelt on the grass, clutching a dying Merlin. Feeling his heart rise in his throat, Arthur all but threw himself off the unicorn, who had stopped alongside them.

" _Merlin_ ," he breathed, dropping to his knees and bodily shoving Gwaine out of the way so he could take hold of his servant. Cradling his head, Arthur desperately clapped a hand over the wound, trying futilely to staunch the bleeding.

"Merlin...what...what happened?" he demanded, looking up at Gwaine with hard eyes.

Gwaine looked at him in a mixture of shock and confusion. "...Arthur?"

Did Gwaine's voice have a different accent? Not important. "Your king commands you to speak, Gwaine," he said, frustrated by the lack of response.

"Arthur, what are you saying?"

Arthur blinked. The words...were not Brittonic, but he found he understood them anyway. Magic. It had to be magic. He also did not care, and after a moment, found the words he needed in this strange tongue.

"What happened to him?" he bit out.

"Leon...shot him," Gwaine said slowly, looking up at the man in question.

Arthur followed his gaze, shooting his knight a look the promised harsh words, later. But right now, he needed...oh gosh, _Merlin_. Why would Leon harm him? Had it been an accident? That had to be it...!

"Someone get the healing supplies!" he roared. Merlin was the physician, but they all had basic field training in medicine! Enough to bind a wound, at least.

"He's as good as dead," a voice behind him said, and Arthur stiffened in fury.

"Who said that? And why is nobody _moving_? Get the satchel, that is an _order_!" Had they all gone soft in the head? Merlin coughed weakly, blood spurting from his lips, and Arthur barely hid a sob.

"Merlin, Merlin, stay with me," he whispered, leaning down to cup his servant's cheek. "Come on, stay with me. We'll patch you up... Where is that _satchel_?!"

A gentle prodding from the unicorn's horn drew Arthur's attention. Sitting up, he refused to relinquish his grip on his friend as the creature stepped closer, head down. For a moment, the unicorn seemed to appraise them, then very slowly, he touched his horn to the wound.

It started like the tiniest of sparks, then slowly grew into a golden glow that surrounded both Merlin and the unicorn, growing in strength until the intensity of it forced Arthur to look away.

When he looked back, the glow was gone completely, and so was the unicorn's horn. It stood for a moment longer, then collapsed, dead, at Merlin's side. In his lap, Merlin heaved a deep breath, and then a gagging cough, the force of which pulled him from Arthur's lap as his stomach heaved up a glob of blood.

Alive. That was the only thing that registered with Arthur. Merlin was alive...because the unicorn Merlin had once saved had deemed him worthy of salvation, also. He spared a moment of gratitude for the creature, then caught Merlin as he fell back onto him.

His servant's eyes opened, as blue and as beautiful as he remembered. "Guess...I died, huh?" Merlin said softly, speaking that unfamiliar language. "Really...messed up destiny...this time."

Arthur cupped his cheek, smiling faintly. "You are no more dead than I."

Merlin barked a wet laugh. "That's...funny. Because you're dead. Have been for...fifteen hundred years..."

Those words shot through Arthur like a cold knife. "I...think you're hallucinating, Merlin. I am very much alive, whatever you may wish." Teasing was familiar. Teasing was normal.

The words made Merlin sit up more fully. Part of Arthur wanted to object when his servant pressed a hand to his neck, but some deeper part of him warned him to stay still. He went with the latter.

"You...have a pulse." Merlin's hand switched to his own neck, and then he looked around, as though really seeing where they were for the first time. "I...have one too. I...didn't die?"

"Not that I noticed, _Mer_ lin." They would address the fifteen hundred years thing soon. "Though it was not for want of trying. Luckily, it seems that unicorn you forced me to save decided you were a pure maiden and saved your life."

Merlin was smiling, and for whatever reason tears had begun trickling down his cheeks. Before Arthur could say more, arms had hooked themselves around his neck, and he was holding a mess of a sobbing servant.

"It worked. Goddess it _worked_. I was so...so afraid it..."

"Good to know you still speak absolute _gibberish_ , Merlin."

The words drew a wet chuckle out of his servant. "I've never stopped, Sire."

"Would someone care to explain what's going on here?" A voice, Gwaine, demanded. If the demand brought a frown to Arthur's lips, he said nothing, because frankly he agreed.

"Yes, Merlin, perhaps you could start with that fifteen hundred years comment, or better yet, explain why I seem to recall _dying_."

"That's...because you died, Sire," Merlin replied as he slowly, and with obvious reluctance, disentangled himself from Arthur's neck.

"If I died, how am I alive? Honestly, Merlin, even knowing you're a sorcerer does not make me see you as any brighter."

"We...were near the lake when you gave up," Merlin said softly. "You died there in my arms. But...but Kilgharrah," had Arthur heard that name before? "he swore you'd return. I just...I had to...I had to make a sacrifice to bring you back." The last was admitted in a low tone, Merlin's gaze averted to the ground.

"Merlin, took at me." For a moment, he thought his servant was going to disobey, but then, slowly, Merlin did as ordered. "What sort of sacrifice?"

"Do...can we talk about this in private?"

" _Now_ , Merlin. My knights c—" As he was speaking, Arthur looked up, taking in for the first time who exactly was surrounding them. Not his knights—at least, not all of them.

And too many of them.

Arthur rubbed his eyes. "Perhaps I am dead," he muttered. Because four of these people were, or he was a burrow. And not all of them were friends.

Subtly, he reached for his sword, his hand encircling Excalibur's warm hilt a feeling of comfort to him. He hefted it, the blade an assurance.

"Morgause," he bit out, expression narrowing. "I could have sworn I had the pleasure of hearing of your death," he said. "And Morgana. I could have sworn I watched _you_ die." Never mind Elyan and Lancelot.

"Arthur...don't," Merlin said, his hand pressing against the leather of Arthur's glove and coaxing him to lower the blade. "They...they've been reincarnated. All of them. They aren't your enemies any longer...at least, I hope not."

"Reincarnated, I was dead, and what under the sun are you _wearing_? Honestly, Merlin, I truly do question your mental capabilities..." Because mocking Merlin was so much easier than voicing his fears.

"...Arthur, I think we should talk. In private." For a moment, Merlin hesitated, and then he said, in Brittonic, "Or we can speak like this."

Arthur matched the language, finally getting a chance to voice one of the many, many questions he had, "Yes, about that. Exactly what gibberish do you have _me_ speaking?"

Merlin smiled wryly at him. "It's English. It's the language that's spoken in Albion—though it's now called England."

"And as I am not so stupid as you, I am confident that one does not learn a new language in one's sleep."

Merlin shrugged. "Maybe it's because your reincarnated self knew English? It might be something that stuck with you when he died."

This just got weirder and weirder. Taking a deep breath, Arthur massaged his temples. "You had best start at the beginning, I think. Don't leave anything out."

Merlin looked at him for a long moment, and then he relaxed. And then he began speaking. For much of the discussion, Merlin stuck to English, and it was not long before their audience settled in, clearly interested.

At times, though, he switched to Brittonic, and those were the times Arthur really listened...because those were the times he knew that what was coming was going to be incredibly personal.

It was in this way that he learned of his own death, and the era of peace that his soldiers bought with their blood and sweat. He learned of the wonderful queen Guinevere had been—and he could not help but glance at the Gwen of now, sitting beside this age's Lancelot—and...he learned of her death, passing on with Merlin at her side, making him promise to look after Arthur always.

He learned of Camelot, how she grew and how she fell. Arthur listened with a stony expression, not allowing a hint of emotion through, though there were many times he wanted nothing more than to let loose and scream.

He learned of the eras that followed, and the mistakes men made over and over again. Of plagues and purges, and the final fall of true magic in the Albion—and wouldn't Uther have been pleased.

He learned of Merlin. His friend had travelled far, had seen and learned many things, but had never been gone long from Albion and Avalon. Merlin had truly waited for him for what amounted to nearly fifteen _hundred_ years, and if that number made Arthur want to vomit, he withheld it, his expression carefully expressionless.

He learned of the strides society had taken, of technology and advances in medicine and science, and of how big the world was, but also how small it had become. It was fascinating, but it was a lot to take in—especially when Lancelot, poor, dead Lancelot, began enthusiastically pitching in. Lancelot's input only spurred on others, and soon they were all talking over one another, each with something different to say.

All save Morgana.

Lastly, Merlin outlined the recent events, following his...rebirth. Here, he spoke entirely in English, and Arthur suspected the explanation was every bit as much for the others as it was for him.

"...nothing I was doing would have any effect on them," Merlin was saying, looking haggard. "I didn't want to admit it, but I suspected it had to be magic. What else could affect the dead so much? Especially when I saw some...fleshless ones. Nothing biological could cause that.

"So, after Morgana's dream, I finally sucked it up and asked Aithusa—Aithusa is, uh...well," he looked a touch sheepish here, "she's the last dragon."

"Dragon," Arthur said flatly, cutting off any other surprised questions. "That reminds me, you spoke of Kilgharrah, also. Since when do you conspire with dragons?"

"I'm...uh, the last dragonlord?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" he asked, expression stony. "And while we're on the subject, are there any _other_ lies you have to own up to? Because now is most certainly the time, Merlin."

His servant flinched, looking like Arthur had physically struck him. "I'll tell you anything you want, Arthur, you just have to ask."

"I intend to," he muttered, "but continue."

"She...helped me realise that I was looking for the solution in the wrong place. I knew...I knew the Arthur of this time...he wasn't you, and I...I didn't think—he couldn't do it. We need _you_ to save us. So, Aithusa made me realise that Morgana's dream, it wasn't a warning that I would kill him, it was the Old Religion telling me that that was what I had to do in order to stop this.

"It was true. With Avalon's magic having successfully revived you, it shouldn't affect any other corpses again."

"But you had to kill my...other self to do it?"

Merlin looked shamed to his core. "I...had to. I didn't want to, but...if it was for the world...! And...it was for you, Arthur," he added softly.

Arthur met his eyes for a long moment, then gestured Merlin forward. "Come here."

Merlin leaned forward without question, closing the short distance between them. Without further ado, Arthur whacked him over the head. "That's for trying to do too much," he scolded.

Rubbing his head, Merlin forced a smile. "That's what you're here for."

"It is. And my first order is for you to get some rest."

"But—"

"That's an order, Merlin. And it goes for all of you. I...am going to take a walk." Because this was a lot to take in, and he needed to get away from watching eyes. He would never let them see, but he needed to cry. He needed to mourn his wife and friends and subjects and his _country_. He needed to mourn everything that was lost, and then he could return and be the pillar Merlin needed.

"Yes, Sire."

Standing, Arthur slide Excalibur into its scabbard and turned. Taking one of the horses, he mounted and began to ride off. A few minutes to himse—

"Arthur!"

He turned back, to Merlin's fearful gaze. "Merlin?"

"Just...please...you have to come back."

"Why on earth wouldn't I come back, Merlin?" And was that real fear in Merlin's eyes?

"I...please, Arthur, just...promise me."

Fifteen hundred years.

"I promise, Merlin. I'll be back. No more waiting."

Merlin's shoulders sagged, and Arthur was almost tempted to bring him. But then he remembered Gwen and Camelot and he turned away. The last thing Merlin needed right now was his weakness.

* * *

Merlin had to fight back bile as he watched Arthur ride away. He was not successful in stopping the tears that came, though. Oh gosh, if he didn't come back...

"Please tell me this isn't a fever dream," he said, reaching over to touch the body of the unicorn, "and if it is, I don't want to wake up."

"Merlin..." Gwaine said, moving to kneel next to him, "you okay?"

He let out a choked sob. "I...I've never been better. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Dunno, just tend to assume people who are crying aren't, y'know, _fine_."

He forced out a wet guffaw. "R-right. Knew there was a reason you were always one of my favourites," he muttered, reaching up to rub his eyes.

"Was I now?"

"You came with me to help me regain my magic after...after Morgana took it from me. Saved my ass more than once on that trip. In the end, Morgana wound up torturing you to death. I missed you, after that." He knew he was babbling, but he didn't care. He had wanted to say some of these things for a long, long time. "I know it was you who gave up mine and Arthur's location to Morgana, but I don't blame you for it. I...I don't think Arthur would have made it anyway, and it was only thanks to you that I was able to kill her. Dammit, without you the entire battle of Camlann would have been lost..."

"Merlin, you aren't making any sense," Gwaine said.

"I just...wanted to thank you. And you too, Lance. You died so neither Arthur or I would have to. And Elyan, thanks for saving Gwen from Morgana. And Leon, you were...so good to Gwen after Arthur died and I left Camelot. And...and Gwen, you were such a good ruler. You did everything you could to bring magic back to Camelot, and I don't think I ever properly thanked you for that."

"Don't...mention it, Merlin..." Gwen said slowly.

"Is this all true? You aren't just having us on?" Elyan asked slowly.

Merlin nodded tiredly. "King Arthur and the knights of the Round Table, Queen Guinevere...and Arthur's servant Merlin. It's all true," he muttered. "Embellished, and the facts are far different than fools like Marlow wrote, bit some of what you know is right."

"There's still the matter of you killing my cousin," Morgana, who had been largely silent, finally said.

He met her eyes. "I understand if you hate me. I understand if you never forgive me. But know this, I have had it drilled into my head for hundreds and hundreds of years that my destiny and my duty both belong to Arthur _Pendragon_. I would do anything to revive him. The fact that it stopped the... apocalypse was only a bonus."

"I'd like to see some proof of these claims," Morgause demanded.

"Who else feels this way?" Merlin asked after a moment. Because Arthur was back, and he did not need to hide anymore. He was so, so sick of hiding. Part of him wanted to scream to the world who he was.

An even larger part wanted to scream who _Arthur_ was.

Murmurs of ascent rose through the group, so Merlin gestured to the horses. "Secure them," he said, before throwing back his head and yelling to the sky.

It took only a few minutes for the sound of sweeping wings to fill the clearing, the treetops swaying and swinging furiously. She dropped in the pond, forelegs resting on the rock formation in the centre. Perched on high, she watched them, foreclaws digging into the rock and wings partially spread.

"Morgana, you remember Aithusa?"

* * *

Morgana was shocked into stunned silence. This...was by far the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. Awestruck, she stepped forward, eyes racking over the dragon's stunning form.

 _Hello, Morgana._

Morgana froze, eyes wide. "Who...?"

 _It's Aithusa,_ Merlin's voice echoed in her head. _It seems your soul remembers enough of what it once was to manage this simple thing._

 _Merlin...?_ she tentatively ventured.

 _I hear you. Go ahead, she wants to talk to you._

 _...Aithusa?_

 _Yes, Morgana? It has...been a long time._

 _You...knew me?_

 _Many years ago, yes. I am sorry we never got to say goodbye._

What...happened?

I stayed away from you, as the dragonlord,

Merlin? _commanded. Then you died._

This knowledge that she had been the enemy of all of her friends in the past churned Morgana's stomach. _And...now?_

I would be happy to get to know you again. I have missed you.

Morgana smiled at that. _I think I'd like that.  
_

* * *

While Morgana reunited with Aithusa, Merlin had turned his attention to tackling the stupefaction of the rest of them. Most were too stunned to saying anything for several moments.

"That's...wouldn't a dragon have been useful?" Gwaine asked.

"She's not a toy, Gwaine," he scolded. "I don't make a habit of taking advantage of my dragons."

"You have more? What the _shit_ , Merl?"

"No, Aithusa is the last since Kilgharrah passed."

"Still, this does seem like it could have been...advantageous," Leon remarked.

Merlin shrugged. "I had no intention of revealing myself unless Arthur was involved," he said simply. His entire life had been lies and secrets for Arthur. Nothing would ever change that.

"Thank you, Merlin," Morgana said, walking over to him. "She is...beautiful."

Merlin smiled. "You two were once good friends."

Morgana nodded, her eyes noticeably damp.

"Aithusa," he called, speaking aloud for the benefit of the others, "I need you to do something for me."

Ruffling her wings, the dragon sat taller. "What isss it, Emrysss?"

Moving to the pack horse that still carried Arthur Hunter's corpse, he slowly lowered the body and carried it to the pond.

"He deserves to rest here, at Avalon," he said softly. "He never deserved the fate that destiny had for him."

"What do you wiiish?"

With a muttered spell, the water solidified, allowing Merlin to rest him atop it. "Burn him, please," he said, stepping back.

With her gaze sweeping over those assembled, Aithusa then sucked in a breath and did as asked. Nobody said a word as the searing-hot flames licked at the body, quickly reducing it to nothing but ash. Merlin then released his spell, allowing the ash to sink beneath the surface of the water.

"Whatever remains, the magic of Avalon will watch over him," he said softly. "Forever."

* * *

 _Sorry to those of you who asked me to actually kill off Merlin, but this is definitely a Merlin/Arthur Pendragon fic, and they've been through enough. :)_

Preview:

"This is exactly how we lost Morgana last time."

The words cut through her, making Morgana recoil with widened eyes. "Then perhaps you should have considered that before you took my cousin's trust and shit it out," she said, suddenly defensive. She was not that...person of the past! She deserved to be considered as an individual, not based on some actions her past self may have made.

"I-"

"He loved you," she said, "and you betrayed that."


	13. and the Return of the King

_I'm really sorry this took so long. I have halfway through chapter 16 written, but just...stopped working on this fic at all. I don't really know why? I just completely lost the will to work on it. I'm planning to making finishing this fic my NaNo for this year, though, so hopefully you can see the end by the end of the year._

 _Again, I'm sorry for taking 100 years. Thanks for sticking with me._

* * *

Morgana watched as Merlin bustled about, keeping himself busy as he checked supplies, and then started moving the unicorn's body to the pond. How he was able to move the body...well, Morgana had to assume he was not doing it physically.

Despite the pretence of activity, it was not hard to spot his anxiety, as he continually glanced in the direction the...Pendragon had ridden off in. Several times a minute, he would look up, staring longingly into the woods like a sad puppy. Eventually, Morgana set aside her pity for him and stepped forward.

"Merlin," she said, walking over, "can we talk?"

Gazing distractedly into the trees, he finally turned to her and nodded. "What is it?"

"Do not think I have forgiven you, but I wanted to thank you for introducing me to Aithusa. She is magnificent."

He sent her a small smile. "Your past life thought so, too. I don't know how you met her, but her loyalty to you surpassed her loyalty to me."

"Is that...a strange thing?"

"I hatched her," he said, a whimsical smile on his lips. "It was a long time before I saw her again, though. Sometime in there, you must have met."

"I can understand why I would have been drawn to her."

"Morgana loved her, and believe me—Morgana Pendragon did not love much."

"...why?" she asked, giving voice to the question that had been plaguing her for some time. "Why was she so...hate-filled?"

"...it was a series of unfortunate happenings," he said softly. "All my life, I have asked myself if she could not have been saved if we had simply...been honest with her. Gaius insisted that we hide the nature of her magic from her, and I went along with him, despite my gut telling me to be open with her. Maybe, after it came out, if I had just told her about _my_ magic, she could have even seen the possibility of a peaceful resolution—but no. She slipped away from Arthur, Gwen, and I, and I've regretted that fact all of my life."

His voice was sad with unfeigned emotion. Listening to him now, she felt a little more of the anger she felt towards him dissipate.

"And Morgana? I...truly am sorry, about Arthur. Believe me, I have been forced to do things I've not wanted to do in the past, but none have been so hard as that," he said softly.

"Just...stop," Morgana muttered. "I don't want to hear it, and I don't forgive you. Neither does Morgause. I will work to be on amicable terms with you, but...nothing more."

Merlin looked at her for a long while, then he shook his head. "Don't you see it?" he asked softly. "This is exactly how we lost Morgana last time."

The words cut through her, making Morgana recoil with widened eyes. "Then perhaps you should have considered that before you took my cousin's trust and shit it out," she said, suddenly defensive. She was not that... _person_ of the past! She deserved to be considered as an individual, not based on some actions her past self may have made.

"I—"

"He loved you," she said sharply, "and you betrayed that."

Merlin would not meet her eyes, instead turning to the woods—in the direction the Pendragon had gone. "Not willingly."

"No one held your hand."

"Only destiny," he said softly.

"No. You don't get to make excuses. Not for _this_."

Merlin looked at her for a long, long time, his blue-eyed gaze utterly indecipherable. Then, he seemed to reach a decision. "When I was young—and I mean truly young; younger than you are now—I was _informed_ that my entire existence was tied to this prattish prince who threw me in prison the first time we met. I rebelled and rejected the idea; I wanted nothing less. Then I truly met him, and I saw potential.

"The potential I saw in him has never even been rivalled, before, during, or after his reign. I got to know him because I had to, I stayed because I wanted to.

"My duties to him did not end when he died, and I have lived every day since awaiting his return. It may seem like just a big number to you, but I have lived for fifteen hundred years. That's...it's a millennium and a half. I have seen wars, I've seen nations rise and fall, I lived through not one but both world wars; I watched as my kin were caught and slaughtered like cattle in the witch trials, I watched the suffering during plagues..." He stopped here, shaking his head in unfeigned grief.

"I watched Camelot, the nation Arthur and I fought for, the nation he _died_ for, fall and burn. I watched all of my friends die, until Aithusa was all I had left. I watched as every other sorcerer, warlock, witch, wizard, and sorceress died and passed on, fewer and fewer born every year, until magic was completely lost to the world.

"I am lonely," he said frankly, the admission all the more jarring for the frankness of the words. "The thought that Arthur would one day be returned to me was often the only thing that kept me from finding the highest cliff and I could and simply walking off it.

"And then, one day, there you all were. Except it wasn't what I had been promised. Arthur had been reborn, yes, but that was far from the same thing as Arthur returning, and that fact never made sense to me—it felt _unfair_ to me. After so long waiting, why was I being denied that which I had waited for?

" And then this whole mess happened, and nothing I did could stop it.

"Your cousin offered me something I would never seek with my Arthur, but even the...return of my affections is not more important to me than the duty I have dedicated some sixty generations of humanity to. He comes first. He always has. He always will. No matter the cost."

Morgana was struck dumb by the depth of his feelings for the Pendragon. Brow furrowed, she found herself at a loss for words. She...understood that he loved Pendragon, but how did any of that justify killing his reborn self? It seemed...backwards. Wrong.

"Two halves of a whole, that's what destiny called it. I haven't felt this...right since he died. So I'm sorry, I truly am, but I would make the same choice every time." He sighed, looking sad. "I understand if you can't forgive me, all I truly ask is that you don't hate me."

Did she hate him? She felt betrayed, and her trust was shaken. She realised that their lives were cheap to him...but he had protected them, and he was now trusting them with this world of his.

"Perhaps," she said softly, "in time. For now, I will work with you." That would have to do for now.

He smiled at her. "Thank you, Morgana."

"Don't thank me with words. Thank me with you actions," she said, then turned away to find Morgause.

Her sister and Gwen were loitering nearby, keeping an eye on her. The moment Morgana approached them, Morgause stepped forward. "Sister? What did he say?"

"He...explained his reasoning, and if it falls flat for me, he at least seems to believe in it."

"Exactly what does that mean?" Morgause asked, her voice tense.

For a moment, Morgana was struck by the anger in her sister's words. In that moment, Merlin's words rang in her mind. Hatred...was it really what she wanted?

"That, to him, he did what he had to do, and he truly felt he had no other choice." As she spoke, Morgana realised how true the words really were. In defending Merlin, to her sister no less, she was coming to understand him more.

Did that excuse his actions? No, but...perhaps she could have some empathy.

"...you would defend him, Morgana?"

"I realise that perhaps there is more here than I understand," she said slowly.

"He was our family!"

"...and I think, perhaps, Arthur Pendragon is all the family Merlin has in the world," she said. "I am angry, I am, but I sympathise with him."

Morgause looked doubtful, but finally nodded, slowly. "Very well, sister. Though I don't promise to be as forgiving as you, I will try."

They shared a smile, and Gwen came forward, resting a hand on Morgana's shoulder. "And you, Morgana? How are you feeling?"

"I...I miss him, and Percival," she said slowly. "I'm worried about my aunt and uncle, also, but I imagine so many people must have it worse than we do."

"We don't really know how bad it is," Gwen agreed. "But...it seemed like so many people died."

"We lived," Morgause said firmly.

"For now," Morgana agreed. That was one true blessing. "We were lucky Merlin acted so fast."

"He may have acted quickly," Gwen said, "but we all pitched in. We're alive because of our combined efforts."

"Gwen is right. You especially, Morgana. I don't know what we would have done without you."

Morgana found herself blushing faintly at their praise. "Surely I didn't—"

"You definitely did," Gwen said firmly. Morgause nodded her agreement.

"...glad to help," she said after a long moment.

"Hopefully we can keep it up. I want to go back to laughing at you and Lance, Gwen."

Guinevere scoffed a laugh. "I just want a hot bath."

"Oh gosh yes," Morgana agreed hastily. "I am so sick of cold water and stinking like sweat and blood."

"I miss class," Morgause admitted.

"Think we'll ever go back to that?" Gwen asked.

For a long moment, Morgana turned, watching Merlin, who suddenly raced off. A moment later, Arthur came into view, and he immediately set to work helping the man. Finally, she nodded.

"Yes, we will."

* * *

Merlin was making supper, leaving Arthur with a few minutes to himself. It was not that he wasn't incredibly grateful for his servant's attentiveness—truth be told, it would not have hurt Merlin to have even a fraction of this dedication in Camelot—but Merlin was perhaps being a touch overbearing, scarcely giving Arthur time to _think_.

Spotting Guinevere on her own, sorting through some of their rations, picking out things that were going bad and tossing them out, he stood from the rock Merlin had found for him and wandered over.

"Guinevere."

She looked up, startled, then offered a weak smile. "Hi, Arthur. Did you need something?" How so like his late wife she truly was.

"Just to speak," he said, lowering himself to the log she sat on. "I wanted to say that I am truly sorry for the loss of...your Arthur." This whole reincarnation thing was a lot to wrap one's head around. He had overheard a great deal of discussion on it in the camp, but had largely stayed out of it.

"My...Arthur? I mean, of course I'm upset, but Morgana and Morgause are far more upset," she cut a glance to Merlin, of all people, "and not just them."

He cleared his throat, confused. "I don't understand, where you two not...?"

"What...? Oh, no!" She indulged him with a small smile. "I realise, in the past you were wed to a woman with my name, and who may have even looked like me, but I am not that woman. Arthur and I were never more than friends."

He gazed at her, curious. Her words did bring into stark relief something he had been struggling with all day: these people used to be his friends, but he really did not know them any longer. Well, all save...

Merlin jumped back from the pot with an annoyed cuss, glaring at it and looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. He found himself smiling, just a little. Thank whatever goddesses remained that Merlin was still...Merlin.

"Arthur? Arthur, are you listening to me?"

Surprised, he shook himself from his stupor. "I apologise, Guinevere. What was it?"

"I said that if you want to worry about someone, you might try Morgana and Morgause," he scoffed, and she frowned, "or even Merlin. They were all far closer to him."

"Didn't Merlin kill him?" And hadn't that revelation come at a price. Arthur was still coming to terms with just how hardened, how utterly ruthless, Merlin could truly be. He was reminded of reports of a small army, one that had been chasing them, found decimated outside Ealdor. Merlin's magic put that into a different perspective.

"Arthur?"

He started again. "What is it?"

"Can you focus for more than ten seconds?"

"I apologise," he repeated. "I seem to have a lot on my mind."

She seemed to accept that explanation. "I was saying that the fact that Merlin killed him is all the more reason to worry over him. Arthur and I weren't together...but Merlin and Arthur were."

He gazed at her in numb stupefaction. "... _Merlin_ was?"

She frowned. "Wait, you—did you two really never...?"

"No!" he barked out, coughing at the force with which he said it. A few heads turned to him in curiosity. "Why on earth...?"

"Perhaps because you keep staring at him," he turned away, "he didn't exactly hesitate to shag our Arthur," his cheeks flushed for some reason, "and the fact that he shanked that Arthur for the _chance_ to get you back. Never mind how he looks at you." She shook her head.

"...don't be daft," he muttered. "He is, perhaps, a friend...when he's not a total, bumbling idiot. Nothing more."

He chanced a glance at Gwen to see the look of incredulity that she was giving him. "...right."

"Believe as you will," he said stubbornly, moving to stand.

As he walked back to the fire, he heard a muttered, "Believe as _I_ will? Believe as _you_ will," that he chose, graciously, to ignore.

* * *

Gwaine had found the alcohol. Merlin had tried to hide that he had bothered to pack it at all, but he should have known better.

Then again, there were worse ways to spend a night in the middle of a magical forest, Merlin decided as he sat down with his own bottle. The others had had a head start while he had cleaned up, and Gwaine clapped him on the shoulder as he sat down.

"Mmmmmmmmeeeeeeerlin, where ya been?"

"Cleaning up after your supper," he said wryly.

"Mmmm. Good you came. This Arthur's borin'."

Arthur scoffed at the accusation. "We are in the middle of a campaign," he said flatly, "it is not the time to be getting drunk." _And if you were still my knights, you wouldn't be_ , his tone and stance said.

Just the look was enough to make Merlin set aside his own bottle. Arthur was far from wrong. Despite feeling safe in this forest, the truth was that they were _not_ safe, and they needed their wits about them.

...as much as Merlin needed a good drink.

"Ooooh no," Gwaine growled, obviously catching Merlin's intent. Reaching down, he grabbed the discarded bottle and pushed it at Merlin. "Drink!"

"Someone has to stay sober," he grumbled, placing his hand over Gwaine's and pushing it away.

"Chainmail over there's got this," Gwaine said, smirking.

Casting a glance to Arthur, Merlin shook his head. "Forget it, Gwaine. Lay off."

"It's fine, Merlin," Arthur said, surprising him. "Go ahead."

"Since when d'yoooouuuu tell him what to do," Gwaine grumbled, scowling.

Merlin sighed. "I'll pass."

"That wasn't a suggestion, Merlin. Drink."

"Ar—"

" _Mer_ lin."

He picked up the bottle. "You know, Arthur, we aren't...really in danger here, and I can sober up quickly. You can drink too."

"Someone needs to watch your sorry arse, Merlin. We all know that you are a hazard to yourself."

"Hardly," Lancelot cut in, "he's at _least_ half the reason we all made it here alive."

Arthur arched a brow. "Merlin is."

"I'm more competent than you think," Merlin told him cheekily, leaning over to elbow Arthur lightly. "I'll have you know I saved your life several times."

Arthur snorted. "Please. Elaborate."

"The cave you went to, to get the Morteus flower. I sent you that light."

Arthur's eyes widened. "That was after Nimueh..."

Merlin nodded. "I was unconscious, but somehow I could follow your progress. Gaius told me I was begging you to abandon the flower and leave."

"...I would not have done that."

Merlin smiled. "I know. And given that I'm alive, I'm rather glad you didn't. Besides, you never listen to me."

"And you never listen to me," Arthur retorted, nodding to the unopened drink in Merlin's hand. "And I'm the king."

With a sigh, he opened it and took a drink. "Happy, Sire?" he asked cheekily.

To his relief, Arthur smiled at him, hooking an arm around his neck and tugging Merlin in. "Just don't get drunk. I am not dealing with you whining like a girl."

"That, uh, is rather offensive these days," Merlin pointed out, extracting himself from the headlock.

Arthur pulled a face, staring at Merlin with that famous look of incredulity. "What are you on about, Merlin?"

"Things have changed a lot," Merlin said slowly, gazing down at the bottle in his hand. "It's not a bad thing to be like a girl," he said, glancing to where Morgana and Morgause were chatting with Leon. "There's more equality between the genders."

Arthur was sending him a look of utter bafflement. It was understandable that it would seem like a strange concept. Remembering back to the days of Camelot, he saw so many differences. It would be a culture shock to Arthur, to be sure.

"I...suppose I have much to learn."

Merlin was, once again, thankful for Arthur's open-mindedness. He clapped Arthur on the shoulder and offered him the bottle. "I'll help you."

"That is hardly a relief, Merlin," he said, though he took it.

He found himself grinning at the casualness of the insult. It was so very _Arthur_. Goddess, he'd missed him. So much. Unconsciously, he scooted closer to him on the log they'd dragged over. If Arthur noticed, he didn't say anything.

"Hey, Merlin, does you phone still have power?" Elyan asked, glancing at him.

Fishing the device from his pocket, he clicked the screen on, then nodded. "A bit. No signal at all, though."

"Damn. Was hoping for some news."

Merlin had all the news he really needed sitting next to him. Still, he nodded as he moved to put the phone away. "We can check once we leave here."

"What's this?" Arthur asked, catching his wrist and taking the phone before he could return it to his pocket.

"It's a cellphone," Merlin offered, leaning over to turn the screen back on. "You use it to communicate with people."

"How does it work?"

Merlin chuckled. "That would take hours to explain. But basically you can write each other notes and send them to anyone anywhere, or you can call them and hear their voice."

Arthur's eyes widened as he looked at the phone, turning it over. "Can you demonstrate?"

Merlin shook his head. "The towers that allow them to work are down. Mine is one of the few still working, and in here even it's not going to do much."

Arthur frowned. "I thought you said anywhere."

"There are devices that allow them to work. Some places don't get signal from them so they don't work. But in cities they work really well."

Arthur nodded. "So...with one of these I can reach you from anywhere."

Merlin nodded. "Pretty much."

"Even in a tavern."

Merlin's eyes widened, and he sputtered. "Wha—no—Arthur!"

"You spent two days straight in a tavern once! I nearly fired you on principle!" Arthur's voice dropped. "You are truly fortunate your replacement was so dull."

Merlin scoffed. "You didn't have to spend a week taking brass polishing lessons from him!"

"And whose fault is that?"

Their voices were raising, drawing the attention of the others. Merlin didn't care. "I was never in the tavern! My visits to the tavern were nearly exclusively with you!"

"Then where were you _for two days_?"

"Morgana enchanted me to try to assassinate you, so I was off hunting her down to break the spell!"

Arthur stared at him, one eye squinted slightly. "...you were hunting Morgana."

"Every time. Every time Gaius told you I was off getting sloshed, I was on some mission to break some spell or find some magical item or hunt some magical beast. What do you think I did after you ordered me to leave Camelot?"

Arthur pulled a face. "I did what?"

"The incident with the troll."

Arthur's eyes widened. "Merlin..."

"Gaius and I were working to break the enchantment. You're welcome, by the way—or did you enjoy having a troll for a stepmother?"

"...we are never speaking of that _again_ , _Mer_ lin, or I will throw you in the stocks. Again."

Merlin chuckled. "Gonna have to build them."

"Or I could make _you_ build them."

"Are you sure you'd trust me?"

"...no. You're right. It would probably fall over and kill you. That would be regrettable. Probably."

Merlin laughed. Not a soft chuckle, or even a light snigger, but a true laugh, forcing him to clap a hand to his mouth. After a moment, a grinning Arthur pushed against him.

"Tell me about more."

"About the exciting tree branches falling? Or perhaps convenient rockslides that covered our escape?"

"They were all you." It wasn't a question, and Merlin shrugged.

"Subtlety."

"One of those nearly got you killed."

"...Arthur."

"Don't _Arthur_ me. You try that again and I _will_ clap you in the stocks."

"Yes, Sire." It would be worth it, of course.

"...Merlin, where did you go? Before...Camlann?" That question, and the seriousness of how it was delivered, caught him off guard. "It had to be...another of your little missions. You saved my army that day. Twice."

"It wasn't—I had to—" he started, cutting off each time.

"So it was? Then...Merlin, I am sorry. For what I said to you that night."

"What did you say?" It had been a long, long time for Merlin, and he had mostly just hung on to the good memories. If it was something Arthur was _apologising_ for, he had probably forgotten it on purpose.

"I accused you of being a coward, and said that that was why you weren't coming with my army. I did not mean it, I was merely..."

Merlin grinned. "You were upset that I wasn't coming with you."

"Believe it or not, Merlin, it gets quite dull without your mindless prattle."

"Morgana had found a way to block my magic. I went to the Crystal Caves to try and reverse the curse. I succeeded, then used the crystals to show me you and your army. That's how I knew where the Saxons were, and sent you the warning."

"...I am sorry," Arthur repeated, "for everything I said to you."

"I left you when you needed me most," Merlin said, understanding what was being left unspoken. "Believe me, it hurt me to leave you. Because I wasn't there..." He trailed off, feeling the long-buried pain of Arthur's death niggling at him.

"It is not your fault," Arthur was quick to jump in, apparently following Merlin's train of self-deprecatory thoughts.

Merlin glanced up, offering him a weak smile. "Every time your life was in danger," he said softly, "I was there to save you. The one time I had to leave you..."

"Look at me, Merlin," Arthur growled, in that tone that brooked no nonsense. Merlin felt compelled to obey. "You _are not to blame_ , do you hear me? What happened at Camlann was the fault of Morgana and Mordred. Not you."

"Kilgharrah told me to abandon Mordred. I didn't listen. He told me to kill Morgana. I didn't listen. Gaius told me to leave Aithusa's egg be. I didn't listen." He turned fully to face Arthur. "If any one of those three had failed in their alliance, you—" _Would never have had to die_.

"Merlin, I am ordering you to _drop this_." Despite the words, Merlin could see the hidden pain in Arthur's expression.

"I've had a few years to look at it from every angle," Merlin muttered. "It's all true."

" _Shut. Up. Merlin!_ " Arthur ordered, his tone going from annoyed to angry. Merlin's mouth shut with an audible click. "You will drop this. You will cease in this line of thought completely. Do you understand? This is not a suggestion, it is an order. I have no use for a servant who is wallowing in self-pity."

Despite the harshness of the words, Merlin still understood their meaning: _You've suffered long enough. Let it go. I forgive you._ He allowed a weak smile, looking down at his bottle. "Yes, Sire."

Arthur reached over, clapping him on the back of the neck. "Tell me other stories. I find learning of your antics entertaining."

Merlin shrugged. "Surely there's something else you'd rather discuss?" Arthur was the one suffering the biggest shock of his life. Merlin's feelings didn't matter compared to that.

"No way," Gwaine cut in, "I wanna hear more too. It's hilarious."

Glancing around, Merlin realised for the first time just how much attention they'd drawn. Merlin sighed. "Any preferences?"

"What's the worst thing you ever did to him?" Gwaine asked, grinning.

Arthur raised a brow, the hand on the back of his neck tightening. "Yes, Merlin, what is the worst thing?"

"...you were pretty upset about the rat stew."

Arthur sputtered, choking on the drink he'd stolen back from Merlin. "That was..."

"Wait, like actual rat?" Lance asked, looking disgusted.

"Clean my room, Merlin. Find me food, Merlin. Get rid of the rat, Merlin," he retorted, smirking. Arthur's fingers tightened in warning. The familiarity felt good.

"It was vile," Arthur agreed. "But being the benevolent prince I was, I generously permitted my servant to finish the stew."

"It wasn't that bad," Merlin said, shrugging. "Given that the entire city was starving, I wasn't going to complain."

"There must be something he doesn't know about," Gwaine said, smirking at Arthur.

"Yes, Merlin, there must be _something_ I don't know about..."

"...remember that incident with the burrow ears?"

Arthur's eyes widened. "You didn't—"

"No, no! That spell wasn't me."

"That spell. Implying that there was another spell..."

"The braying after may have been...less related to—"

Arthur shoved Merlin's head down, forcing his chest to his thighs. " _Don't_ finish that sentence."

Merlin grinned to himself. "Yes, Sire. There was also the incident with your pants falling down at council..."

Merlin felt nails. "I think I have heard _quite_ enough."

"No way, these are great," Gwaine said, laughing.

"It's a miracle you kept your head."

"Gaius thought so, too."

Arthur sighed, finally letting go so Merlin could sit up. "...I wish you would have told me sooner."

"I...wanted to," Merlin agreed. "I tried to, once or twice, but in the end I always chickened out. You would have been obligated to kill me, and I didn't think you could actually do that."

Arthur looked down grimly. "No, I don't think I could have," he agreed after a long moment.

They let the subject drop. It was in the past, and that was that.

"Okay, enough sap," Gwaine said. "Tell us more about us."

"...do you all seriously believe this?" Elyan asked suddenly.

"The dragon sort of sold me," Gwaine said.

"Dragon?" Arthur asked.

"I introduced them to Aithusa whilst you were gone."

Arthur frowned, but said nothing.

"And what about Arthur?" Elyan asked quietly. Leon nodded along slowly. "Are we all just _okay_ with Merlin murdering him?"

Merlin looked down. He didn't regret what he had done, but it was going to haunt him until these people were gone. At the very least.

Gwaine shrugged. "...that was kinda shitty, but since Merlin's, y'know, been leading us all this time—"

Arthur snorted. "Merlin? A leader? Surely you must be joking."

If it hadn't hit so close to his own thoughts, Merlin might have been offended. As it was, he smiled wryly and shrugged. "Someone had to."

"Merlin? Are you all daft? What can he do?" Arthur asked, his expression disbelieving.

"Well, he was the first one to react after things went to shit," Leon said, shrugging.

"He's also one of the only one with any combat experience," Elyan admitted.

"Apparently the only one with the stomach for...things, too," Lancelot added.

"... _Merlin_? That clumsy, bumbling idiot— _this_ Merlin?" Arthur punctuated his words by whacking Merlin lightly over the head.

"Yes," Leon frowned, "and for someone he's so nice to, you are kind of a prick to him."

"Can't have him thinking he's actually _good_ at anything."

"Shit, man," Lancelot muttered, "you don't have to be such a git."

"A prat," Merlin supplied, "clotpole, cabbage head. He answers to all of them."

Merlin was rewarded for his efforts with a seconded, harder smack. "He's a bad enough servant without giving him an inflated ego."

"You could still be a little nicer to him," Lancelot, sweet Lancelot, muttered.

"Yes," Merlin agreed, nodding, "you could. I believe I was promised _two_ days off?"

"You had fifteen hundred years," Merlin did not miss the slight hitch in Athur's breath as he said that, "off. Don't think you'll be needing time off any time soon."

"Now wait just a minu—"

Merlin laughed, cutting off Leon. "Right then. Let's get on with saving the world then, shall we, Your _Majesty_?" Standing, he cut a formal bow, though his expression stayed playful. He wanted to keep Arthur smiling...because Arthur kept him smiling.

"Look at that. It only took you what, twenty lifetimes to learn some manners?" Arthur quipped.

"I'll have you know I'd perfected them by the thirteenth century."

"I'm sure you did."

Merlin couldn't help himself, for just a moment he felt tears pricking at his eyes. Looking away, he wiped them with his sleeve. Goddesses...he just...he'd missed this so much.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked, a gentle hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, he looked up, smiling brightly. "Sorry, Sire, I seem to have gotten something in my eye."

"...Merlin, I told you, no man is worth your tears," Arthur said softly, expression strangely understanding.

Merlin shrugged. "That's one piece of advice I've never been very good at following."

"...so like everything I've ever told you."

"Right. But less than usual." Merlin recalled being alone, on the shore of Lake Avalon, watching until the boat disappeared, then staring over the water long into the night... He had felt like he would die himself, like he had no reason to move on. And he had cried, bitter tears of unrivalled pain.

"...I told you that so you wouldn't grieve me when I as gone."

"I know. But you understand, it was utterly ridiculous, because you had me to protect you from the dragon."

"Right. You can do that with the next dragon, because I recall killing tha—" Arthur trailed off as Merlin grinned at him. "...I _did_ kill the dragon. Merlin?"

"Of course, Sire." His smile never slipped.

"...we are going to talk later, Merlin."

Merlin swallowed, smile slipping at the expression Arthur was sending him. "Why do I feel like I'm not going to like this conversation?"

Arthur's dark smile only deepened.

"You two are very good at changing the subject," Elyan said quietly. "But I'm bothered by this."

"You want it in simple terms?" Merlin finally asked. "Fine. The birth of Arthur Hunter was a mistake from the very beginning. Arthur is literally right here, they are _the same person_ , just with different memories. In this case, those memories are important, because the other Arthur didn't have it in him to be what we all need right now." What Merlin needed. "But I literally just had the soul switch bodies. He died, yes, and was resurrected within hours. As he should have been from the beginning."

Elyan stared down at his beer. "We're taking an awful lot at face value from someone who murdered our friend. How do we know that this person is who you claim he is?"

At its core, the question was actually entirely reasonable. Despite some proofs being offered, they were still being forced an awful lot at face value. Literally—the two Arthur's looked alike. That was their main proof, outside from unrelated things. Like dragons.

None of that cooled the flash of rage Merlin felt as he jumped up. "Don't you _ever_ say that," he growled. "He is _the king_ , and he deserves your respect!"

"You might see him as a king, but why should we?" Elyan asked, his voice still soft, like he was trying not to start a fight. It was too bad Merlin was well passed caring.

"Because if you want to come with us and have us protect you, you _will_ serv—"

"— _MERLIN_!"

He froze, jaw clacking shut. The look Arthur sent him was one of complete disapproval. He dropped his gaze, unable to be faced with Arthur's clear displeasure.

"I apologise for my servant," Arthur said tersely. "Sometimes he forgets his place. I will speak to him." Arthur turned to walk away. "Come, Merlin."

Chastened, he followed without a word.

* * *

"What has gotten into you?" Arthur asked, feeling drained after the day. "That little show was not at all like you."

Merlin wouldn't meet his eyes, but Arthur let it go for now. He _wanted_ to see some submission out of Merlin after that little outburst. Eventually, however, he replied, "After everything I did, after everything you did...you deserve their respect. If your own reborn knights won't follow you..."

Arthur sighed, turning and laying a hand on Merlin's shoulder. After a moment, the man looked up. "Loyalty is earned, Merlin, surely even you know that much." Merlin knew that better than any, after all, Arthur had had to earn his, so long ago. "It is not something to be forced, for that isn't loyalty. It is merely subservience, and I won't have it, least of all from them. This is not Camelot." Though how he wished it were. "Do you understand?"

"...yes, Sire."

"Good. Now you can go about finding me a change of clothing and a place to sleep."

That was greeted with a slightly more honest smile. "Yes, Sire."

Watching Merlin scamper off, Arthur turned back to the fire, retaking his seat.

"...you do have a certain...air about you," Lancelot said, eyeing Arthur as he settled back.

"Air?" Arthur asked, brow raised.

"Like...nobility. Like you expect everyone to jump when you say toad."

"I would be far more concerned about Merlin saying toad. I am reasonably certain I once saw him conjure a frog into a man's mouth. Entertaining, but also rather disgusting."

Gwaine scoffed. "Okay...if he's so strong, why the hell does he follow _you_? He could probably just go on leading us. We all woulda followed and that'd be that."

Arthur's lips quirked. "You really don't know Merlin very well, do you?" He ignored their looks, instead turning as Merlin approached them.

"Arthur, I think this should fit."

Arthur glanced, curiously, at the shirt Merlin carried. It was made out of some sort of...well, it was material, but it was softer than Arthur was used to, and...yes, it stretched. Interesting.

"It does not seem very sturdy," he said, examining the thin, blue fabric.

"It is, trust me," Merlin assured, sitting down next to him and setting to work on removing his pauldron.

As the heavy armour fell away, Arthur let out a soft sigh of relief. It was bulky, and his shoulder was feeling the strain. For a moment, Merlin opened his mouth, as though to offer him a massage as he often did. No words came, however, and Arthur let it go. There were more important things right now.

Next, Arthur lifted his arms, letting Merlin tug the hauberk away and set it down, then quickly stripped away his gambeson. Arthur let out a second sigh of relief. That was much cooler. Merlin, however, was pulling a face.

"Is there a problem, Merlin?"

"I really need to introduce you to the concept of deodorant."

Gwaine barked a laugh, along with several others.

Arthur knew he was being mocked, though he did not know how—so, he whacked Merlin and ignored it.

Rubbing his head, Merlin finally got back to work, striping off his shirt at last. Gwaine let out a whistle that Arthur ignored—privacy might have been nice, but it was not worth leaving the fire's warmth and light. It was only a shirt.

Merlin, however, wasn't moving. Clearing his throat, Arthur glanced at his servant, waited, then elbowed him. Merlin staggered, then finally looked at him. Arthur raised a brow.

"Sorry, uh, it's just, well." He reached out, touching the strip of cloth Arthur had tied around his bicep, just above the elbow, when he had geared up before going into battle.

Despite himself, Arthur felt a slight blush overtake him. "Uh, yes, right. I just..."

"You missed me." It wasn't a question.

"Don't be absurd, Merlin—"

"Absurd? You're wearing a piece of my _neckerchief_."

"Merlin..."

"How long did you even keep that? Why did you even keep it? It's garb—"

"Merlin, _drop it_."

His servant grinned that shit-eating grin. "Just admit it, Arthur. You missed me."

Arthur let out an annoyed huff. "Yes, right then. I missed my closest friend and wanted to keep a piece of him close while I rode to my death."

Merlin blinked. "Really?"

"Don't be daft. Now give me that shirt." He reached for it, but Merlin evaded him.

"First let me check on your injury," Merlin said stubbornly.

There had been no pain that Arthur had noticed, but he complied, dropping his hands so Merlin could prod at the scar under his ribs. "Any discomfort?"

"Nothing. It's like it never happened."

After a moment, Merlin straightened, apparently satisfied. "As far as I can tell, short of using magic anyway, the wound is healed and the shard gone."

"Why don't you?" His own words shocked Arthur, but he did not take them back.

"Do what?" Merlin was still an idiot.

"Use magic?" he said sarcastically.

"Oh, uh—you actually want me to?"

"You've been doing it all along. I'd rather it happen where I can see it."

Merlin did well to hide the hurt, but Arthur still caught it. He bit back an apology as Merlin approached again. This time, Arthur watched as Merlin's eyes flashed gold. Other than that, there was no visible effect, and Merlin sat back quickly.

"Perfectly healthy." He looked happy.

"Good. Now you can finally finish." Merlin smiled at him and pulled the shirt on as Arthur lifted his arms. "I'm surprised you aren't more rusty at this."

"Unlike some people, I dress myself every morning." Arthur scoffed. "In chainmail?"

"No, but I wear belts. Buckles, amazing things."

Arthur pointedly ignored the laughter at his expense.

* * *

Preview:

Merlin was at his side a moment later, dropping to his knees in the muck. "Is he con-"

Merlin's words cut off sharply, just as Arthur appeared at Gwaine's side. "Merlin? What is it?"

"Mordred."


	14. When Change is Nigh

Arthur spent the following morning watching Merlin.

He had arisen early, after a long night of tossing and turning and trying, trying, _trying_ not to think about Guinevere and Camelot and everything he had left behind in the past. It had not been wholly successful, though the proximity of Merlin, the one remaining person whom he _knew_ , was a help.

When he had at last given up on sleep, in the hour of dawn, Merlin had already been up, hard at work scrubbing the blood from his saddle. Arthur had seated himself next to Merlin, neither speaking a word while the man worked. They had stayed that way for hours, even as Merlin moved on from the saddle to the chainmail, repairing the hole in it as best he could, then stitching up the holes Mordred's blade had made in Arthur's clothing.

The others awoke, moving about and seeking food, and still Merlin worked, with a dedication Arthur had rarely seen from his servant. He left it alone. It was clear that Merlin was working something out for himself, so he left him to it, even going so far as to get himself, and Merlin, something to eat.

Merlin, having returned to scrubbing his saddle with an almost frantic fury, didn't even acknowledge the meal. Arthur set his own aside, studying Merlin's face. He looked...tired. Haggard. Frantic. All of the words described him, but none of them seemed to do him justice. Truthfully, Arthur was not certain that a single word _could_.

Eventually, he reached over, catching Merlin's hand in his own. "Easy there, Merlin, leave some of the leather to actually sit on."

For a long moment, his servant stared down at their joined hands, and then Merlin finally looked up, meeting Arthur's gaze. "I killed him."

It was Arthur's turn to drop his gaze. There was so, so much more being said in those three words than the obvious. In the last few days of his life, as well as yesterday, Arthur had been given a peak into a side of Merlin he had never seen before. Merlin was no coward. He was a fighter and, Arthur was almost regretful to acknowledge, a killer. The discovery of just how cold and hard the cheerful man could be had more than surprised Arthur. It was a side of him he had never known.

Despite all that, however, at heart, Merlin was still Merlin.

Reaching over, Arthur rested a hand on the back of Merlin's bowed neck, before sliding it around his shoulders and yanking Merlin in to his side. "And do you regret it?" he asked, pitching his voice low.

"...no," Merlin said softly.

"Then there's no sense to be whining about it, Merlin." Reaching up, he pressed his knuckles to the mop of dark hair. "So don't."

"I was terrified," Merlin said, breaking away from Arthur's half-hearted hold. "What if it hadn't—hadn't worked? I would have lost you again."

"Sounds to me like you never had me in him to begin with." Arthur glanced over, one brow raised.

"...it was the closest I had since you died."

"And is a replacement really worth it?" He was not asking for his own ego, Arthur could admit, but more to assuage his curiosity. Maybe it was simply because he was unable to really grasp the magnitude of what Merlin had experienced, or done, but killing one man did not seem like that big of a deal to him.

Even one who looked like Arthur himself.

"I would have killed their friend," Merlin gestured to the others, who looked up in alarm at his outburst, "for nothing! I wouldn't have been able to live with myself."

"And is that any different from the other people you've killed?" he challenged.

Merlin looked like he had been struck, then dropped his gaze and voice. "No, I guess it's no— _yes_ , Arthur. Yes it is, because it was _you_ —but I'd still do it again." Merlin closed his eyes, looking utterly miserable as he took several deep, calming breaths.

"It's not just that, Arthur. He believed in me. He _trusted_ me. Even after I told him everything, he never believed I'd actually kill him. When I did..." Merlin swallowed. "I had to stare into your eyes while you died, again. And...and he looked so, so _betrayed_...!"

Arthur clapped him on the back, not missing the shift in form of address from Merlin. He chose not to comment on it, however. "...making sacrifices for the people, whether they like them or not. Welcome to leadership."

"Right," Merlin said eventually. "We've done this before, right?"

"We?"

"You couldn't have done it without me. The whole king thing."

Arthur found himself smiling at the forced cheer. "In your dreams, maybe."

"Right, Sire," Merlin replied, lips quirking in a much-welcomed smile.

In the end, well, if Merlin's saddle wound up replaced with a different one, nobody commented on it. The grateful look on the man's face made riding in a stained saddle completely worthwhile, in Arthur's opinion.

* * *

"I want to see them for myself."

Gwaine glanced up at the unexpected announcement from the...new Arthur. Arthur was, as usual, talking to Merlin, but his voice was pitched loud enough for Gwaine to overhear.

"Are you certain that's wise, my lord?" Hearing Merlin speak with such formality was strange, but Gwaine was starting to see how naturally it came to the two of them, despite seeming completely out-of-place to the rest of them.

"Of course it is. I need to see my enemy to know my enemy. Think of it as a reconnaissance mission. We can bring the others, so they aren't stuck here undefended."

Merlin pulled a face at that. "This is the part where I tell you this is a bad idea."

"And this is the part where I don't listen to you. Go fetch the others."

Merlin sighed and walked away. Gwaine quickly caught up and fell into step with him. Unlike the others, he had some sympathy for Merlin. Perhaps it was because he had not known the deceased Arthur as long as they had, but he felt like, perhaps, Merlin really did have a good reason for his rash actions. The man certainly seemed to believe in them, anyway.

And seeing as Merlin was perhaps the only one of them with a _clue_ as to what was going on, he was going to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"What's all this about?" he asked, slinging a friendly arm over Merlin's shoulders.

"His Majesty wishes to scout the area. Who am I to tell him he's a dollophead?"

"...dollophead? Mind defining that?" Gwaine asked, forcing amusement into his tone.

"Prince Arthur."

Somehow, Gwaine felt like he had just walked into the middle of an inside joke. He let it go. "Aaaalright, then, I guess. What are you going to do?"

"What my king commands," Merlin muttered, rolling his eyes. Gwaine didn't fight back a laugh. "Gather the others and drag them out on this silly venture."

"Honestly...isn't it a good idea?"

"It is, except these people aren't the knights he remembers. Morgana and Morgause aren't the women who could whoop his ass with either a blade or magic. Your little disarming trick is dead and buried with the you of the past. Leon's nobility and years of service as one of the finest swordsmasters in the country? Gone." He shook his head sadly with a wry smile. "No offence, but you're all a liability—except maybe Morgana."

"I heard him say it was safer to bring us."

"You're safer here. The magics of Avalon will keep them back, so long as I will it."

"So, tell him that. Aren't you like...the brains of your operation?"

Merlin barked a laugh. "Don't _ever_ let him hear you say that. You may actually find yourself in the stocks."

"...the stocks? Really? I posed in those once," he grinned, "it was fun."

"It's really not. I have been hit with so many rotten tomatoes...and you get so _stiff_. I don't recommend it."

"Fine, fine," spoilsport, "but still. Go tell him what you just told me."

Merlin shook his head. "He's not in the mood to listen."

"You haven't even tried."

"Trust me, I know him better than I know myself. He feels like he has something to prove."

"By...getting us killed?"

"By taking you into danger and proving he can lead you out." He frowned and shook his head, muttering, "I think that a part of him does expect you to rise up and be his knights, too."

This whole thing still seemed so weird. If he hadn't seen undead, magic, a dragon, and a unicorn in the past week, he probably would have argued more. After all that, though, how farfetched was reincarnation, really? At some point, Gwaine had just accepted that he knew less of the world than he'd thought, a lot less, and then that was that.

"And when that doesn't happen...?"

Merlin sighed. "I show off and we run away. As usual." He smirked slightly. "Though this time I don't have to hide it, at least."

"Guess that works, eh?" He snorted. "Even seems fun."

Merlin sighed. "Wanna go get Leon and Elyan?"

Offering a wry smile, Gwaine nodded. Fetching their friends, he brought them over to where Merlin had managed to assemble everyone else. A few still shot uneasy looks at Merlin, and that was to be expected. Despite the fear, however, there was still the underlying current of gratefulness, in regards to all Merlin had done for them. It was hard not to be at least a little bit forgiving of his choices, in light of that. Need was a powerful thing.

Gwaine did not, however, miss the wary look Arthur, of all people, sent Leon's way. Well, Leon had shot Merlin, so maybe there was something else there that still needed to be worked out. In fact, it seemed like everyone was dead-set on ignoring Merlin's near death, and subsequent revival by a _unicorn_. Gwaine figured maybe enough was enough, and everyone was just trying to process so much they had little time to dwell on trivial things like magical healing.

That was certainly the case for him.

"That seems to be everyone—is this everyone? Good. Merlin?" Gwaine prompted.

"We need to discuss our next move," Merlin said. "Arthur wants to ride out and take a look at the area outside the forest. If anyone wants to come with us, you're welcome to."

Gwaine smiled to himself. It seemed Merlin had taken his advice after all.

"And if we don't want to?" Morgause asked. The blonde woman had moderated her tone rather a lot from the anger of the day before, and that relieved Gwaine. If she was cooling her heels, Morgana would be, too. That did not mean she seemed at all happy about the developments, however. Not at all.

"Nobody is forcing you. You will be safe here, so long as you don't leave the area."

"And of you don't come back?" Elyan asked. "What happens to us, then?"

Merlin smiled, suddenly looking impossibly old and incredibly tired. "I've never not come back yet. Just wait for us, we'll be back."

"And if we wanna go?" Gwaine asked, grinning.

"Then you are welcome to do so," Arthur said, stepping up at last. "Nobody will be turned away."

In the end, Gwaine was the only one who elected to go along. He knew the others didn't completely trust Merlin any longer, but Gwaine...well, he was a forgiving man, and he was eager to see what they could really do.

Gwaine saddled his horse while Merlin saddled his own and the one Arthur had chosen, a big, dark brown animal with darker hair. Merlin took his time, carefully checking the gear on all three horses, and loading on some supplies.

Eventually, Arthur appeared, fully dressed in his armour and with that fancy sword shoved through his belt. Nodding to Merlin, he made to mount.

"Tell me, Merlin, is the girth going to slip this time?"

"Wasn't my fault last time," Merlin countered with ease, not even glancing up. "Cedric, remember? He rigged it. Besides, that was ages ago, even for you."

"I don't see how—"

"Magic, Arthur, the answer is always magic." Merlin swung up onto his own small, black horse. With his own staff shoved through a makeshift holder on the saddle, Merlin gathered his reins and nudged the horse to a walk.

"I spoke to Morgana," Merlin said as they set out. "She'll do fine protecting the others, so long as they don't leave the pond. Freya can keep an eye on them, too."

"Freya?" Arthur asked, riding ahead of Gwaine to fall in alongside Merlin, so close their knees were practically touching.

Gwaine was content to fall back and give them their space, listening to their conversation with half an ear. Short of being blind and deaf, there was no missing how close the two were sticking to one another, especially Merlin, who was all but glued to Arthur's side. It made Gwaine more than content to give them some alone time.

The two talked as they rode, heads together. Gwaine did not catch all that was said, but he did catch snippets. They discussed everything from Arthur's death—a subject the man in question was far more openly upset by, this far away from appearances—to Merlin's life in Manchester. The subject of Arthur's long-gone queen came up briefly, but Arthur quickly changed the topic. Gwaine did not miss the sad look Merlin sent him as he did so.

Eventually, they moved on to one topic that actually had Gwaine pushing his own mount closer.

"Merlin..."

"I just...I'd rather let the matter go, Arthur. I'm alive. That's...what really matters."

"It cost the life of a unicorn, Merlin. A life that could have been saved if he hadn't _shot_ you." Arthur cleared his throat. Gwaine realised he might not actually know what a gun was...

"To all of them, I'm no better than a murderer. I can't find fault with Leon for viewing me as a threat."

"You did your duty, Merlin. That is not a crime punishable by death." It was interesting, Gwaine noted, to listen to how they talked about crime and punishment. They really did come from a time when a person could be slapped in the stocks or even...hung? Beheaded? He didn't know, exactly. Killed, was the main point.

"No, but it is smart. You think someone is going to put the group at risk, you get rid of him. I was threatening Morgana."

"It is still not right, Merlin."

Merlin sighed. "Gwaine, you talk some sense into him."

Surprised, Gwaine rode up closer. "Leon isn't going to do it again. For the sake of peace, just drop it."

Merlin nodded, but Arthur shook his head. "I intend to speak to him, at the very least."

"Arthur..."

"That will be all, Merlin."

Taking the hint, Merlin sighed and let the topic go. With obvious reluctance.

Sensing that he had been given an in on the chatter, Gwaine leaned forward. "So, you two really never...?"

"Never _what_ , Gwaine?" Arthur asked after a moment, clearly annoyed.

"You never boned him?" he asked Arthur bluntly. Merlin sputtered, but Gwaine ignored it.

Arthur looked confused for a moment, glancing to the blushing Merlin—who refused to meet his eyes. Arthur's face then took on a very interesting expression as realisation set in, his eyes wide and mouth twisted in something that might have been a disgusted grimace. "I should say not! What absurd—where did you—ridiculous! Where would you even get that idea?"

"Actually," Merlin cut in, still not looking up from his cantle, "it's not just Gwaine. There were quite a few rumours about us, back in Camelot."

If Arthur had looked disgusted before, he looked downright horrified now. "... _Mer_ lin, I suggest you think very carefully about what you are about to say."

Merln shrugged, apparently mostly unconcerned by the growled threat. "It's not like I started them. If anyone is to blame, it's you anyway."

" _I_ am?!"

"I was always late, a shite cleaner, would disappear for days at a time without telling you, I was a rude, clumsy idiot—your words, not mine—and, as you also put it, I was the worst servant in the five kingdoms. Yet you never sacked me."

"You were the most loyal idiot in Camelot, some—and I do weep for my country that this should be true—but you were some of the most intelligent conversation I could get, you were interesting, and your wit was enjoyable—when it showed itself."

Merlin shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "I know that, but they didn't."

Arthur pulled a face, and Merlin chuckled. "Relax. It's not like it was real."

Finally, Arthur sighed. "It is still disconcerting to know that my subjects thought...that of me."

"Well, you did have a thing for servants..."

"Merlin!" Arthur barked, smacking Merlin over the head.

"Okay, your turn Merlin," Gwaine said. Damn, this was entertaining. "If nothing ever happened between you and him," he gestured to Arthur, "why were you so quick to jump in the sack with...?" He let the question trail off, name unspoken.

Merlin stared fully ahead, which disappointed Gwaine. He would have liked to see how much the man resembled a fish. Finally, he replied, "Not the same person."

"But the attraction was there," Gwaine pressed.

Arthur scoffed. Loudly. "What is all this now? Guinevere...that is, this day's Guinevere, indicated something like this to me. Merlin, did you truly...with another _man_?"

"It's not as heavily frowned upon," Merlin said slowly. "Not anymore."

"And so you just...had to try it?"

Merlin's back was rigid, and his horse was tossing its head in agitation. "I wanted to. It wasn't the first time."

That seemed to surprise Arthur. "It...wasn't?"

"Had plenty of time to fool around," Merlin ground out, his tone less than amused. "So, I did. Don't worry, Sire, it will not affect my work."

"...and with...me? Why, Merlin?" Merlin did not answer, staring stubbornly ahead. To Gwaine's delight, however, Arthur did not take kindly to being ignored. " _Merlin_!"

"Because he came on to me, and I wanted to," Merlin finally said, the words coming out of him as though physically being dragged.

That was the end of conversation for a while.

* * *

The rode in silence after the argument, Gwaine watching the two men curiously. There was no doubt that the silence between them was strained, Arthur clearly unwilling to broach the subject, and Merlin more than willing to let him get away with it.

It was far less entertaining than when they talked.

"So," he finally said, annoyed with the quiet. Nobody had said anything for over an hour, "all of this," he gestured to the air, "is really real? I mean, you two do sorta sound crazy."

Merlin turned back, holding out one palm. The man uttered something, in a language Gwaine had no hope of catching, and a tiny dragon, made from sparks, rose from his palm.

"Would you not do...that?" Arthur demanded, glaring at Merlin.

The dragon immediately vanished, Merlin turning back to stare down at his mount's mane. "...sorry, Sire."

"Sorry, didn't mean to cause a lovers' quarrel," Gwaine joked. "I thought it was pretty cool though, Merl."

"Don't encourage him," Arthur said, tone a tad harsh. Whatever was going through the blond's mind, Gwaine had no idea what it was. It was clearly bothering Merlin, though.

"Don't encourage him? The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Gwaine snapped. That depressed look did not suit Merlin. "What's gotten into you?"

"What has gotten into me?" Arthur asked, voice deceptively low. "Why don't you ask Merlin?"

Gwaine didn't have time to voice the question before Merlin was speaking, "You don't like it that I kept the rumour from you."

"Look at that. You do have something other than stones in that thick head of yours, Merlin. What else?"

Merlin fiddled with his reins. "You...want to know what else I've hidden from you over the years."

"Dragons, magic, rumours involving _us_ that I should have addressed—anything else?"

"Go easy on him, mate," Gwaine said, frowning.

"It's fine," Merlin said sharply. "He has every right to be upset. I lied to him. A lot."

Watching the two, Gwaine could not shake the feeling that the pair were having their own, subtextual conversation that he was not privy to. The way they glanced at one another, the subtle shifting of posture and hands, the inflections in their voices... It all spoke of something more, something that did not need words.

"He doesn't have to be an ass about it, though," Gwaine muttered. This Arthur didn't seem overly...pleasant. Especially not to Merlin. Truthfully, it was starting to worry him a bit.

The look Merlin sent him could have curdled milk. "Leave it, Gwaine."

"Merlin, enough. Let it go."

For an instant, Gwaine thought Merlin was going to say something more, but then he simply heeled his horse forward. Gwaine, with one glance to Arthur, followed.

"Merlin, mate—"

"There's the road," Merlin muttered, nodding ahead to a distinct thinning of the trees.

At Merlin's words, Arthur was suddenly beside him, squinting through the trees. "So it seems you can navigate after all."

"Arthur—"

"Well done," Arthur said, cutting Merlin off. "Now where?"

"We follow it. There's bound to be a town or something," Merlin replied.

Arthur nodded, nudging his horse into a trot as they left the boundary of the trees. He paused then, taking in the asphalt stretching off to the left and right. "What is this?"

"Pavement," Merlin replied. "It's used to make permanent roads. For the horseless carriages I told you about."

"Cars," Arthur supplied, nodding once and looking pleased with himself—as though the very idea of someone not knowing a car was commonplace, and he himself clever for understanding.

"Arthur...there is another option."

"What is it, Merlin?"

"My magic lures them in. I could—"

"No."

Gwaine frowned at the abrupt response. What on earth was Arthur's problem?

"Arthur..." Merlin's voice carried a note of dejection that even Gwaine could hear.

"I realise I allowed you to use magic...before. When I was unwell. However, I do not wish...to see you corrupted by it."

Merlin stared at him. "Corrupted by...? Arthur, are you serious? If magic was going to corrupt me..."

"No, Merlin."

"Arthur..."

"I will _not_ lose you—!" There was real undercurrent of fear in Arthur's tone that Gwaine found interesting...and Merlin clearly found alarming.

"Arthur, it's...you can't separate me from magic," Merlin said softly, his voice changing immediately from exasperation to compassion. "I am magic. Magic is me. And it's not bad. We aren't bad."

"We find a town," Arthur said instead, heeling his mount onto the road, and then kicking it into a gallop.

With one last, sad glance after Arthur, Merlin did the same. He notably did not go through with his own suggestion.

They pushed a fast pace, then, though both Merlin and Arthur insisted they keep the mounts from over-exertion. As it turned out, it did not matter much. Barely ten minutes out and the roaring of an engine drew them up short.

"Off the road!" Merlin yelled, and they all turned their horses to the shoulder—no, not all. Arthur had hesitated, staring towards the sound.

"Arthur! Get o—"

The sound of roaring engines overrode the yells. The cars ripped around the bend, moving entirely too fast. Arthur started, eyes wide. Before he could kick his bay, the stallion reared, screaming in fear at the noise. To his credit, Arthur stayed on, but the cars—

The entire convoy flew off the road, rocketing into the sky. It all seemed to be in slow motion as two trucks, one van, a gas truck, and three motorbikes tumbled headlights over taillights. Screams erupted from the vehicles, but were drowned almost instantly by the overwhelming crashes as the vehicles hit the ground again.

A fount of flame erupted, and bangs and explosion sounded as the fire hit the broken trailer. Gwaine watched in horror, fighting to keep his mare from bolting, as the fires sprang higher. Heat blasted his face, drawing tears from his eyes, but he found himself unable to react.

Gwaine had nothing on Arthur, who stared vacantly at the destruction before him. A glance at Merlin revealed that the man was staring intently at Arthur, one arm raised, and it took Gwaine a moment to realise he was holding the panicked bay in place somehow, stopping him from bolting.

Slowly, Arthur turned to Merlin, eyes wide. "Y-you..."

Gradually, Merlin lowered the hand he had raised. Another explosion popped, and the horses shied, but did not run. Flames were beginning to lick at the trees on the other side of the road. Gwaine winced at the expressions on his companions' faces.

"Cars move faster than horses. They would have killed you," Merlin explained, riding forward on his own trembling mount.

"...so you killed them all with magic. They were not threatening us, Merlin!"

"You'd be dead if I hadn't," Merlin muttered back evenly. It took a careful eye to see how his hands were trembling on the reins.

"And you couldn't have...been a little more conservative?" Gwaine finally ventured, tone calm.

Merlin looked down. "I panicked. I just did what I needed to protect you."

Arthur glanced at the flames. "This is what magic can do."

Merlin flinched. "Arthur..."

"Go put out the fire."

"Right, okay, just—"

"Now, Merlin!"

Merlin dismounted, handed his reins to Gwaine, then ran off.

Dismounting himself, Gwaine led the horses to Arthur. "I'm going to help."

"Wait until the fire's gone."

Sceptical, but not wanting to fight, Gwaine stayed until the fires were quenched, leaving no more than tendrils of smoke rising from the wreckage. Merlin looked back and waved.

Taking that as the signal to approach, Gwaine led the horses forward, followed closely by Arthur. They approached with caution, Gwaine casting his gaze over the tangled, charred remains of a truck.

It stank of gasoline, burnt rubber, smoke...and an undercurrent of cooked meat. He swallowed, trying to settle the churning in his stomach. Gwaine did not even want to think about the people that had been inside. Were probably still inside.

"This is magic," a voice said from Gwaine's side.

"I didn't even believe in magic two days ago," Gwaine said quietly, feeling despondent. "But...I thought Merlin was a good person. I never thought..."

"Merlin is a good person." The conviction in Arthur's tone was strong. "It's the magic I'm still having some trouble with."

"Haven't you known each other for years?"

Arthur grunted non-commitally. "I thought that too."

That was cryptic, but one glance made it clear that Arthur was done speaking as he stormed forward, tossing his reins to Gwaine as he did so.

Gwaine regretted the loss of the distraction as he found himself with nothing but three horses and carnage. He took the chance to step away, hobbling the horses and collecting himself. Then he followed Arthur.

He found the two, working in silence beside one another as they tried to lever a door open to check on the contents of the car. The only sounds were the grind and creaks of metal, and the laboured breathing of his friends as they worked.

One glance around revealed the reason for their silence. And their lack of haste. The caravan's destruction had been complete, and the search for survivors was more a token gesture, to ease their consciouses, than a frantic effort to save lives. Gwaine chanced a glance to Merlin, where the man was working with a blank face. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

Gwaine put those thoughts from his mind and moved to another vehicle. Steeling himself, he bent and peered in, through the cracked glass. Despite readying himself, he was not entirely prepared to the sight of a woman, slumped over the steering wheel, head split open. He swallowed and tugged the door open.

They worked that way for nearly an hour, exchanging only the bare minimum words required to work. Gwaine kept away from the others, feeling his heart sink a little further in his chest with each body he pulled from the wreckage—many were not whole. He also found himself unable to face Merlin. Confronting the still, ashen faces of the dead was no better, so instead he watched Arthur. The blond man worked steadily, his face hard. Despite everything, however, he notably kept close to Merlin. The two, though hardly speaking, continued to work together. Gwaine did not know what to make of it.

A sound from further away drew Gwaine's attention. Cautiously picking his way over a stretch of charred ground, and skirting a still-smouldering tree, Gwaine darted forward when he spotted a flash of colour in the wreckage.

"Merlin, Arthur!" he yelled as he dropped to his knees next to the young man. He had clearly been flung from one of the vehicles, and that had possibly saved his life. At least for now, because he was clearly breathing...

The boy groaned, and Gwaine reached out to touch his shoulder. "Shh, it's okay. Help is here—Merlin!"

He could hear the other two hurrying over, and Gwaine took a moment to survey the boy's injuries. One arm was twisted unnaturally, and his face was scraped up, a trickle of blood trailing down his nose. That appeared to be the worst of it, though, aside from some dirtied clothing and a few scrapes.

Merlin was at his side a moment later, dropping to his knees in the muck. "Is he con—"

Merlin's words cut off sharply, just as Arthur appeared at Gwaine's side. "Merlin? What is it?"

"Mordred."

* * *

 _Arthur and Merlin have some kinks to work out, huh? Poor, emotional fools..._

 _Preview:_

 _"Bomb carrier," whatever that meant, "and it's headed this way."_


End file.
